


Strong Winds

by Torilala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Feels, Attempt at Humor, Character Study, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gray Revan (Star Wars), Humor, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Retelling, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 136,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torilala/pseuds/Torilala
Summary: All people are marked by who they were before. It is a mark that follows you for the rest of your miserable life. That is until I was given a choice. Join the Republic's Sith War or rot in a cell for the rest of my life.In hindsight, I should have chosen the cell.A re-imagined KOTOR told from the perspective of an uncooperative amnesic Dark Lord.
Relationships: Male Revan/Bastila Shan, Revan/Bastila Shan
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I first posted this story in 2013 when I was a new writer. I decided I wanted to repost this story but re-written in some parts to fix pacing. In any case, I will continue where I left off here and hopefully reach a conclusion. I hope you enjoy!

"The Endar Spire? Stupid name."

A shove at my shoulder forced me forward.

"Keep moving."

The cold loading dock was filled with hundreds of Republic soldiers. Most of them went about their business to ships of unknown names, heading to unknown origins. Others followed our group at a careful pace. All of them gave the five Jedi and their prisoner curious stares.

That prisoner, of course, was me.

I wanted to wave a mock salute at them but the cuffs around my wrists turned it into a weak flail. The pushy dark haired Jedi glared at me. Jedi Bitch. I’d asked for her name, of course, but she ignored me and instead shouted commands into my ear. I gave her a small smile over my shoulder as I increased my walking pace.

Even though I kept moving, Jedi Bitch shoved me again like I was a kath hound.

"I can walk you know," I muttered.

A few soldiers took off their red helmets and headed into the same transportation ship we were going to be shuttled into. The other four Jedi, besides Jedi Bitch, surrounded me like the _dangerous_ smuggler I was. I'm sure they had their reasons, but the whole thing was rather over-dramatic. I was just some captured criminal being forced onto this job, after all.

_One small victory._

If this even was one.

The inside of the transport smelled sterile—too clean. I was used to alcohol and smoke filtering through the air like in my old ship. Where _I_ was the captain and in control. Where was I now? Captured and humiliated.

I was shoved by Jedi Bitch onto a steel bench beside some poor young looking soul. One of the older Jedi in their pack undid my bindings with a quick flick of his wrist. I smiled as my bare skin was able to breath again. I leaned back, resting my head against my crossed fingers. The young recruit shot me a nervous eye.

_One small victory._

I was "free" to serve the Republic. Why had I agreed to this again?

Jedi Bitch faced an aged soldier. "The commander will be arriving shortly, captain. She's been delayed by the Council."

The captain sighed. "Well, the 'commander' better hurry up. We've been stalling here for an hour."

"We _leave_ on Bastila Shan’s command."

With a final "humph", the pilot left the entrance to the transporter for the cockpit while shaking his head. The five Jedi climbed into the transport and acted as if they hadn't dragged me across the docks. Probably hated that they were being ordered around by the Republic to take unwanted "prisoners."

A more experienced looking man sat in the seat in front of me and had this ugly expression on his face. He looked like he'd seen action. Beside him was a man with dark hair who looked my age.

"Wait..." The veteran narrowed his eyes at his datapad. "You’re the one who was added to the roster."

I released my head from my hands.

"What? I'm not a part of any roster."

He didn't look convinced and neither did his friend.

"You're Gale? Wesley Gale?" he asked.

I sneered. "I'm _Wes_. No one calls me _Wesley._ "

"Then you're a part of the crew, _Wes_ Gale."

The veteran shoved his datapad in front of my eyes. On it were rows of pictures and names with ranks listed beside them like little add-ons to weapons. My eyes squinted as I searched the dark tinted names with unimportant ranks until I found the one on the bottom. My picture was there—an _old_ picture. They probably couldn't find any recent ones. It was a mugshot that was taken on Corellia years ago in my twenties during my first arrest. My past self smiled widely, and stupidly, at the holo-capture. My hair had been short and orderly back then and my complexion bright. Now it touched my shoulders in a tangled mess. Beside my old mugshot was my name. _Wesley Gale, recruit_. Below that were a few others with my assigned rank. But there weren't many.

What was the Republic doing? I thought that they were sending me to the Endar Spire to clean the decks and repair droids or...other menial tasks. _Wesley Gale, janitor_ was what I was expecting. The veteran saw my confused look and grabbed the datapad from his friend.

"I doubt you went through basic training based on the way you just addressed me. Is there a reason why you were sent here in cuffs?" he asked, flicking the screen and pressing a button.

I sat back again with a sigh. "Do I need a reason?"

"We thought you were a prisoner being transported or something," the dark haired man said, "but then the Jedi released you—"

“Is that a problem?”

Both the veteran and his friend frowned and they both returned their attention their datapads. I'd thought that would have been the end of the questions, but the young soldier beside me spoke.

"You’re that smuggler the pilot was whispering about."

I gave the quivering one a curious eye. This new recruit looked scared out of his wits, yes, but he was the most observant of these numskulls. The two in front of me narrowed their eyes and before they could say or do anything offensive, a train of Jedi and soldiers entered from the back of the hanger. The Republic soldiers were called to order and they straightened into a salute as a beautiful Jedi marched towards us with a serious look on her face.

The soldiers in the transport began to mutter among themselves. Bastila Shan this. The Jedi are scary that. However, most were muttering their praises to the Jedi commander. Without her, and only her, the war would have already been won by the Sith.

I rolled my eyes.

The Jedi guarding the commander entered the transport. I sat low in my seat in order to avoid most of the robed Jedi's intense gazes. When commander Bastila arrived, all of the soldiers sat up with respect. Except for me. The scuffed metal floor and my worn boots were more entertaining.

The commander might not have been paying very much attention either. Something hard connected with my foot. When I looked up, the commander stumbled but didn't fall after tripping over my extended leg. The train of Jedi stopped with concern.

 _This_ was the Battle Meditator, Bastila Shan?

I...had expected her to be a bit more graceful.

The tripped Jedi turned and gave me the fiercest look that I returned with a shrug. Then, her face turned into paralyzed stone as if a blaster bolt had tripped her instead of my foot. A smile froze on my lips. Before I could ask if she sprained her ankle or something _,_ she twisted around then acted as if I hadn’t existed.

_Okay..._

"All of you on board are here to fulfill the Council's mission." Bastila spoke to the crew with a silky Talravin accent. "Hopefully, we will arrive without incident. The Sith have been seen in the Outer Rim sectors. Commander Carth Onasi has been kind enough to lend me his ship."

She arrived at the front of the transport before the cabin then gave each of us a look as if we were little bugs to be squashed. I knew that look well enough from most of the Jedi that had pushed me around before I came onto this ship. Eventually, the commander turned to address the pilot who nodded. Through the comm, he went through the standard procedures of securing oneself into the transport. I pulled the latch that appeared above my head down onto my armpits. The new recruit beside me along with many others followed the instructions slowly along with the voice of the pilot.

The commander found a seat at the front of the transport and buckled up between her Jedi friends. I wondered why such an important figure was arriving in this unimportant soldier transport ship. I thought the Jedi were too pompous for this sort of thing.

I forgot that line of thought when the transport lifted and the familiar tingle of low gravity filled my stomach. We were in space before I could count to ten and the feeling of the gravity wells hit my legs as we glided out of the atmosphere.

The Endar Spire along with her fleet sat above Coruscant like glorified taxi speeders. The new recruit grinned with excitement while the dark haired man and the veteran glowered at me. Outside the small glass windows, the Republic fleet encircled the important Inner Rim planet like ants to unwanted sweets.

The veteran coughed. "Smuggler?"

I turned my attention away from the window with a grin. The transport was silent except for our voices.

"Smuggler, trafficker, Hutt spawn...etcetera, etcetera."

"Why have you been recruited?" he asked. "The Republic isn't that desperate for soldiers."

"Maybe they're desperate for people to do their dirty work.” I glanced over towards the commander and then at the other Jedi. "Though honestly? I agreed to a few years of mildly dangerous community service. It was either that or prison. And I'm not going back to prison."

_Despite this being a less overt one._

The two closed their mouths when I gave them that answer. For some reason, my gaze was drawn towards the brunette hair and stony eyes of Bastila Shan. The Jedi was staring straight ahead at the wall as if pondering the meaning of life and all of its evils. Dark side, light side, emotion...pacifist mumbo jumbo.

"What's with the Jedi?" I asked, pointing with a free hand. "What's the mission?"

The dark haired one answered. "We thought you would know. They were the ones who brought you here."

I frowned. That was half-true. The cell the Republic kept me in had been dark. An IV and kolto station situated beside my bed, haunting my nightmares. My torso was still sore from the wounds I sustained and I had random headaches if I tried to turn my head too sharply. I stayed there for many sleepless days...months even. They gave me food and water and I thought that the dark, empty prison was going to be my last home.

That is until they came.

The Jedi.

"I don't know. I hadn't expected a Jedi welcome party either. They came into my cell this morning after I agreed to serve and started making demands. They told me it was by the Republic's orders that I was to be stationed on the Spire. I was then shoved here like compactor waste."

The two left it at that and were silent again to my relief. I leaned back in exhaustion after their interrogations. Then, I felt as if I was being watched. My gaze flicked towards the two soldiers, but they were watching the ground in disbelief. I turned towards the Jedi. Bastila Shan’s tight face watched me with intensity. When our eyes met, she turned to stare at the wall.

A smirk carved my lips. I only had to trip a woman in order for her to get smitten with me. Guess I still had that touch.

* * *

Commander Carth Onasi acted as I expected a Republic soldier to act. Shoulders squared, expression serious, and gaze intense while wearing a decorated coat over a bright orange jacket. His face reddened with rapid discontent as we all piled out into the Endar Spire's main hanger. He hadn't expected us at all.

Bastila finally marched down the ramp with her posse of Jedi trailing behind her. The commander stepped forward with a frown that could have fallen to the metal floors.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain Shan—"

" _Commander_ Shan. Admiral Dodonna has granted me permission to use your ship and fleet for this mission."

The Jedi walked by us soldiers like we were specks of machine dust and surrounded Bastila. I sighed for the hundredth time today. I was thirsty. I was starving. Could we just skip these unneeded pleasantries?

Onasi looked as if his ego had been shattered by a wild blaster bolt. "What are you talking about? Why wasn't I informed? And what mission?"

"We need to get going, Commander Onasi. We have a long journey ahead of us and I would like to get there before Malak discovers that we have left Republic space."

Onasi's mouth flapped up and down like a Manaan fish out of water before he waved at us. "And who are all these people? Besides the Jedi you've forced onto me." 

The silky-voiced Jedi sighed. "Just some recruits the Admiral wanted us to take along."

"Okay..." Onasi crossed his arms. "And where are we going, exactly?"

I was curious about this. Apparently, so were a few others, but Bastila shook her head.

"I will explain everything after we've put in hyperspace coordinates."

She stormed off and was followed by the many robed Jedi, leaving us plebs behind. Onasi, the ex-commander of the Endar Spire, looked so awestruck that I actually felt sorry for the man. I mean, none of us asked to be led around by Jedi. Well, at least I sure didn't.

Onasi sighed before addressing us poor souls. "Someone have the roster?"

The veteran I talked to before handed him the datapad. Onasi nodded his head at the ranks and began dividing us into shifts and places within the ship. I wasn't surprised when I was last to stand there. Sweat built on my forehead as the Republic soldier read over what was possibly a record of my past exploits. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was all just some mistake.

Instead, Onasi raised his eyebrows. "Says here you'll be assigned to communications. You understand multiple languages?"

I smirked, relieved that he hadn't come across something worse. "Born and raised in the Outer Rim. You live long enough out there, you just learn."

"But long enough to know...all this? Your records say that you know over _hundreds_ of languages even Shyriiwook—"

"As I said, Outer Rim."

I don't think the soldier believed me because his gaze left the datapad and stayed on me for longer than necessary. Eventually, he went over my other "skills."

"Repair? What type of repairs?"

"Droids. _Most_ droids. I'm not a vehicle repairman if that was what you were looking for."

Onasi nodded a few times though I could tell he was still angry over the Jedi deciding to take over his ship. He checked my record over again—rather excessive—before he narrowed his eyes.

"Odd. Your record was added yesterday."

I wasn't sure if that comment was just to himself. Either way, he finished reviewing my record and gave me a datapad from a steel table being led by a T3 unit. Since I never had a government issued datapad, I had to fiddle around with the screen before I left. The ex-commander of the ship ordered for me to head to the communications wing of the ship to go over my duties.

As I marched through the sterile hallways, I began to wonder why I had been recruited as a soldier. The Republic _might_ need more people with language proficiency, but could they even trust me with something like that? I mean, I didn't even trust me.

In the bottom of my heart, I knew that there was something else going on here.

I just wasn't quite sure what that was yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a few edits here to help with readability and consistency with later chapters.


	2. Endar Spire: Escape

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

* * *

**Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic**

**Episode I: The Quest for the Jedi**

Four thousand years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, the Republic verges on collapse. DARTH MALAK, last surviving apprentice of the Dark Lord Revan, has unleashed an invincible Sith armada against an unsuspecting galaxy.

Crushing all resistance, Malak's war of conquest has left the Jedi Order scattered and vulnerable as countless Knights fall in battle, and many more swear allegiance to the new Sith Master.

In the skies above the Outer Rim world of Taris, a Jedi battle fleet engages the forces of Darth Malak in a desperate effort to halt the Sith's galactic domination...

* * *

_My vision blurred._

_Pain. My hands shook._

_Bastila Shan's l_ _i_ _ghtsaber flared_ _. S_ _parks_ _flickered into my face like beads of sweat. T_ _he_ _body of a dark figure fell to the ground._

_"Hello?"_

_Colorful skies. Red laser beams mixed with green blurred my_ _vision like mist. I tried to shake my head but I couldn't move._

_I just stood there._

_Like a ghost._

* * *

A week passed of boring, grueling space travel on the Endar Spire. My roommates all had opposite shifts as me and I was stuck on night duty. Most of my time was spent in the comm wing listening to dead air. The officers I worked with mentioned that we were heading towards some nothing planet in the middle of nowhere. Not only that, but we occasionally left hyperspace for no reason. Every time we stopped, I became anxious that we'd run into something. After all, what type of mission forced the Battle Meditator away from the war?

The room shook.

I flinched awake and blinked away the mist of dreams. 

Colorful red and green lights lit the windows. Twisting stars. The nightmare I had was happening for real.

I jumped to my feet. _Kriff_...I wasn't supposed to get my neck into this. Isn't the fleet supposed to protect the command ship? This couldn't have been the mission, could it? And why hadn't any alarms gone off? I grabbed my pistol from beneath my pillow and the strong gray doors behind me slid open. The soldier who stepped through the doors was unfamiliar. He looked like a like he was from Alderaan with his golden hair freckled with pure white. His face was frantic.

"Come on, soldier!" he shouted. "How the hell did you sleep through this?"

I glared at him from the floor as I rummaged through my trunk. The Endar Spire's shields were hit again while I was putting on a shirt causing me to trip flat onto my bed. I had been given limited supplies including a standard issue Republic uniform that I never wore. I had been given a few "demerits" because of it.

"What in the galaxy is going on?" I shouted as I threw on my red jacket.

The soldier waved at the window. "The Sith are tearing the Endar Spire apart in search of Bastila, what does it look like?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe I would get a more detailed explanation!"

Another explosion from a fighter rocked the command ship. I grabbed my pistol again and stormed towards the closed doors. I rummaged through my jacket pockets. _Kriff_. I forgot to ask for a key at the bridge. I knew procrastinating that hadn't been smart. But I didn't want to run into the Jedi again.

I punched the door.

"Open it."

"Ensign Trask Ulgo, in case you forgot."

I banged the door again.

" _Ulgo_. Whatever. Open the door before we _die_."

I could escape during the ruckus. This would be my only chance. 

He finally made his way over to unlock the panel. "You're that smuggler they brought on board, aren’t you?” I grimaced. “I heard that you smuggled spice and blasters along the Corellian Run. Escaped prison on multiple occasions...”

”Yeah, yeah, people talk. Are you done?”

Trask remained silent as the he finished overriding the emergency locks. The door slid open. "I don’t know why the Republic hired someone like you, but you know how to escape. We have to help Bastila escape. She's the only hope the galaxy has to—"

"I don't give a kriff about the galaxy right now. I'm heading for the escape pods and never entering Republic space again."

The hallway had been blown to pieces and a burning T7 unit rammed against the wall. Electrical units steamed out the needed oxygen we all breathed. Something hit me over the head—hard enough to hurt but not enough to knock me down. The Endar Spire rocked. I held the back of my head with both hands, then glared at the ensign.

"What was that for, core slime?"

"Running is considered desertion." Trask continued. "And it's practically suicide to go alone out there. Follow my lead and we'll get to both Bastila and the escape pods. Alive. Alright?"

My face turned into iron and felt like it was burning. My pride left my body like blood flowing out of a wound.

I bit my tongue. " _Fine_. Lead the way, soldier."

* * *

The grenade exploded and blinded my senses as I dove into cover. A few ensigns and other soldiers were blasted into flesh and blood—only smoke remained where five men had once stood. I swallowed my fear and raised my blaster again, however, my aim had been too shaky to deliver the Sith into the graves they belonged in. Trask cursed behind me as another grenade was thrown towards me. Again.

Before I could mutter a final prayer to the hell that awaited me, a strong red and yellow body collided into me and a blue shield encircled us. Another flash and the Sith were torn to pieces by the grenade that had been aimed at us.

The ensign had saved my life for some reason. I shuddered as I tried to stand, but the blast had deafened my senses. Trask smiled and deactivated his shield. Blood rushed down his scalp. The only Sith left had been the one throwing grenades. Ulgo took him out with an easy shot when I finally stood.

The ensign took my arm. "Easy," I heard his dull voice, my ears still ringing. I threw my arm away from his grasp after I was on solid ground.

"I'm fine," I shouted over the loud explosions from inside and out.

The ensign re-gripped his blaster with a frown. "Maybe grab a shield next time you decide to run into a fire fight."

I rolled my eyes as I took the Sith's better pistol, We ran down the hall only to stop at the sound of raving sparks. My heart jumped into my throat. There were Sith here. Ones with lightsabers. We could never hope to defeat one of them. We would die before we could even scream...suffocate in our own throats—

The ensign heard the battle sounds as well. Instead of running away like I intended, he slammed his fist into the door's emergency switch.

"Are you crazy?" I shouted over the sparks.

Trask held a hand up in response. As _if_ I would go in there.

"There's a Jedi here. Maybe she can help us."

I really was not in the mood to deal with more Jedi, but who else could protect us from the Sith? Especially one with a lightsaber.

But...the Jedi didn't help us. At all. Actually, she had been distracted. By us.

With an invisible push, a bald man with a malicious grin took the blue lightsaber from the woman's grip as she hit the wall. Jedi Bitch? The Sith advanced towards the defeated Jedi. My breath froze in my lungs. Then, as if I was possessed, I raised my blaster and shot off a round at the Sith. 

My shot rang back into the metal and broken walls of the Endar Spire by the Sith's bright blade.

 _Am I stupid?_ Even Trask looked at me like I was a moron.

The dark Jedi marched towards us with a grin on his face that sent shivers down my spine. The blaster dropped from my hands like worthless weight.

I was dead. _So_ dead.

Trask hadn't moved or said a word—the bastard hadn't even tried to shoot back. An invisible force gripped my neck and breath escaped my lungs as I was forced against the wall. I gripped my neck as I frantically tried to find Trask. However, he was missing...gone...where was his courage now?

The darkness surrounding this dangerous man flowed out of him like a river. Eventually, I didn't fear the grip of the Force on my neck but the darkness that whispered to me from his yellow eyes. The Sith smirked and before he could stab me with his little saber, a blue light burned his face in half.

I collapsed to the ground and coughed from both fear and pain. Eventually, I gazed up at my savior with gratitude. Jedi Bitch—well no, she really wasn't a bitch, was she?—kicked the body of the dark Jedi away. I fumbled to my feet as her blue blade returned into its metal casket.

"T-Thanks—"

The blaster fire had created sparks above the Jedi into the electrical circuits. Before I could warn her, a loud explosion ripped away the beams and walls which crushed the Jedi beneath hot steel. I rushed towards the flames and steam only to be pulled back by Trask.

"Stop...don't, recruit!"

"But she just saved our lives!"

"We can't do anything for her." Trask waved at the alarms. "This hall is going to collapse on us any second if we don't move now!"

_No time for regrets._

We ran past smoke and my jacket became singed from the flames. A loose beam tripped me, but I was righted again by Trask. A vibroblade fit into my hands as Trask and I moved to the edge of the door to the bridge. Without a moment to lose, the soldier slammed the button and the door hissed open.

Tons of Sith. No Bastila. _Of course_. We should have gone to the escape pods in the first place.

A Sith crashed down at me with a vibroblade of his own. I struggled with the black masked Sith, my strength faltering only enough for me to step back from the sharp edge in time. Trask fought nearby and had been strong enough to smash the sharp blade into the armored neck of the Sith's mask.

Another explosion rocked the ship as I slipped in my defense. The Sith's blade nicked my shoulder after that distraction. Sucking in a pained breath, I pushed harder and kicked the Sith into the fires that spread on the consoles behind him.

And I enjoyed hearing that man scream.

As soon as the battle ended, Trask grabbed me by my injured shoulder—to my disdain.

"Go, go! They've gone to the escape pods. We have to leave!"

"I heard you the first time!"

The ship rocked again. I had no time to argue as he ran past me. Another explosion broke part of the Spire's shield. We weren't going to last another ten minutes. I sprinted after him over burned bodies and half-dead men I couldn't afford to help save. I hesitated by the doors for a second as one of the sergeant's hands reached out to me. It was the veteran...

Something grabbed on my red sleeve.

"We can't save them!" Trask shouted.

He already had the door opened and he ran ahead into a more stable hallway compared to the bridge. The door hissed closed behind me when I finally entered and Trask pulled the lever for the emergency air lock. The ship was going down. What hope did we have to leave alive?

"Kriff..."

I bent over my knees—the adrenaline winding down. When I first came aboard the Endar Spire, I thought that I would just be accompanying an annoying Jedi and her stupid Republic friends. I hadn't been expecting actual _war_.

Trask gazed at me with that sympathetic look one would give a puppy.

"We can't save everyone, recruit. Bastila is the only person standing in Malak's way. She needs every able bodied soldier at her disposal."

What he said sounded cruel. Perhaps even sociopathic. But a part of me knew he was right. This Sith war had put a toll on the Republic's numbers and the power they used to hold was crumbling as the Sith fleet destroyed everything in their wake.

I coughed. "Sure, but..."

It was stupid to even argue. But what gave _us_ the right to decide who lived and who died?

The ensign ignored my weak denials and explored the room. He swiped his keycard at a door that probably led to the escape pods. However, before we could go through it, he tilted his head.

"Wait," the ensign called back to me. "There's someone behind here."

And I believed him. There was a presence on the other side of that door. A dark whisper and a mist that threatened to intrude my soul. Goosebumps rose on my skin even with all of the fire that surrounded us.

"Trask..."

The door opened. The yellow eyes and pale skin of a Sith Master revealed himself in the oxygen mists. The Sith stepped towards the ensign who didn't even look like he was going make a run for it. Instead, he pushed me back and rose his vibroblade.

"What are you—?"

"Get to Bastila and make sure she's safe. Find Commander Onasi...anyone. Just go. Run!"

What was he doing? Was he trying to be a hero here?

"Are you insane?"

The door closed in my face was my answer and I was left behind bitter and wordless. Why? What sort of person would place someone who had been in prison just a week ago before his own skin?

I banged at the door. "Trask!" I kicked it. "Bastard!"

He had been serious about leaving people behind...including himself. I let out a tired sigh. If I didn't get out soon, Trask Ulgo's death would have been in vain. So, I turned and sprinted down the hall—lost and frozen. What should I do? Go after Bastila? Find the commander?

What choice did I have left?

* * *

I leaned against the locked door and whispered into my comm.

"You sure they're behind here, Onasi?"

A quiet crackle.

"Yes. They've been trying to get to the escape pods. Fortunately, they won't be expecting someone from behind."

I nodded at Carth Onasi's frantic voice and began to concoct some kind of plan. In the far corner of the room, a broken droid was bent over it's dead mechanic on the floor who had failed to defend himself from the Sith. The droid's back was open and only a few bolts need to be spun into the hard drives for it to come back online.

I smirked.

"I have an idea."

Half a minute later, the droid finished taking down the red and black armored Sith just as the door on the opposite side opened. The smoke cleared, revealing the orange jacketed form of Carth Onasi. I stepped over the red body of a Sith captain with a grin.

"Got em'."

Carth narrowed his eyes at me over smoke before he returned his attention to a computer. When he pressed something that appeared to be a shut down key, he faced me.

"You're that recruit..."

"Yes, yes, I'm afraid we don't have time for polite introductions."

When the Spire rocked again I could _feel_ the shields breaking. Carth noticed as well and rushed towards the escape pod—the last one. I slipped past him when the circular doors opened like the jaws of a firaxan shark.

I had no time to secure myself when Carth climbed in after me and slammed a yellow button. An ear-piercing explosion ripped through the thin walls of the pod and both of us held on as we plummeted away from the space junk that was now the Endar Spire. The gravity wells that held me to the ship faded only to be replaced by the shocking rush of real gravity that threw me into the back of the pod.

The ground of the unknown planet outside was the last thing I saw before the darkness.


	3. Taris: A Sith Party

_Pain._

_My vision blurred._

_My hands shook._

_Bastila Shan's_ _li_ _ghtsaber flared_ _. S_ _parks_ _flickered into my face like beads of sweat and_ _the_ _body of a dark figure fell to the ground._

 _Colorful skies. Red laser beams mixed with green blurred my_ _vision like mist. I tried to shake my head but I couldn't move._

 _Until m_ _y hand lifted. A dark hand._ _It became a strong fist._

 _A soldier held his neck as he hovered feet above the ground. A crack resounded along with the_ _explosions. The young man_ _fell to the floor, eyes glazed._

 _I held a_ _yellow lightsaber._

 _"You cannot win, Rev_ _a_ _n," Bastila shouted over the laser_ _f_ _ire and smoke._

 _A dark figure turned and a red lightsaber blazed. A cold mask. Bastila_ _tightened her grip_ _when the dark masked man of nightmares held his lightsaber above his head in a dangerous stance._

 _A large sound sho_ _ok_ _the ground beneath my feet._ _One look out into the glass and I knew why._

 _Pain_ _—_

* * *

All people are marked by who they were before. It is a mark that follows you for the rest of your miserable life. 

I had been a lonely, naïve child. I'd play at fighting evil doers in the forests by chopping off the heads of smugglers, villains, Sith. The type of games that children played where the right was always right and the wrong—always wrong. Years later, I lived for the cash that flowed through my hands and the quick words I would use to trade my earnings into spices and stolen kolto. Trask had been a foolish Republic soldier once. Now, he was dead along with the rest of them. Gone. And for what? Bravery? Honor? To save a cowardly smuggler who had tried to escape from his grasp the first chance he got?

How foolish. Wasteful. _Naïve_.

After all, it is impossible for anyone like that to change.

* * *

Depressing thoughts filtered through my mind as my eyelids cracked open with sleep crust. The smell was old yet metallic and the fabric beneath me was scratchy yet clean. There were nicks in the silver steel above me—a ceiling molded centuries ago.

Wait... _did I just dream about that Jedi?_

Something shifted as I sat up from the bunk. I placed a hand on the tender part of the back of my head. A large bump and dried blood were the only remnants of my brief excursion on the Endar Spire. An orange-jacketed man sat over a datapad in the corner, flicking the screen once in what appeared to be boredom. Moonlight poured into the tiny apartment room. The night life of whatever city I was in faded into the skies.

"Who—?"

Oh, right. Carth. Carth Onasi. The commander. I clutched my forehead like it was a festering wound. The sound of my voice alerted the Republic officer.

"You're awake."

Carth placed his datapad on the desk with a harsh clatter. I recovered from my headache only a bit in order to address the soldier.

"Where am I?"

Carth made his way towards me. Probably so that he didn't have to shout. "You're on Taris, the planet the Endar Spire was dragged to." He sat on the chair by my bed. "You've been in and out for a few days. I haven't seen anyone so animated in their sleep..."

I flung my feet over the side of the bed in order to get a better view of the broken down place the commander had dragged me to. A workbench along with separate halls for either the bathroom or a kitchen became apparent. My red jacket laid across a dirty and broken chair like a forgotten item. I grinned at the sight then stood in slight pain.

Carth's gaze followed me. "You're lucky I wasn't seriously hurt when we crashed. Before the Sith could investigate, we were long gone."

The jacket was ripped in a few places, like the collar and the back, but the pockets were intact and the coin inside remained. I pulled the raggedy jacket over my arms and shook it into place.

Time to make my exit.

I turned towards the rusted doors and before I could leave, something grabbed my shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" Carth asked.

What did he want? The Endar Spire was gone. My prison literally blasted to pieces. Now I could be free to do what I wanted. He couldn't stop me. No one could stop me.

"I'm leaving this dump. Maybe go to the next system. I'm not sticking around for long though."

Carth sneered. "Well, you have to stick around unless you want the Sith to blast you out of the sky. Taris is under quarantine. Malak is looking for Bastila and unless we get our act together, we will have no chance at finding her."

Bastila was still alive? I wasn't exactly sure about that. After that long and dangerous drop to the ground, I wouldn't say she would be healthy at least. What annoyed me the most was the continued talk about the Jedi. Couldn't the Republic fend for themselves and not rely on the robust Jedi powers for their battles?

"Can't she take care of herself? She's a Jedi."

Carth narrowed his eyes. "Yes...but she's important for the war effort. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. Sure." A thought crossed my mind. Perhaps I could take advantage of this situation. "And why do I have to help you, exactly?"

"Huh?"

I looked into his eyes.

"What's in it for me?"

"For _you_?"

Smirking at his disgusted expression, I walked to the couch that he had been sitting in and collapsed, flinching at the slight pain. I swiped the datapad and read over what looked like some article. After all, had to orient myself if I'm on some unknown planet.

"I don't live off rainbows and sunshine, Orangy."

" _O_ _rangy_?" He paused. "Wait, are you _serious_? I just saved your ass!"

"I didn't ask for my ass to be saved. It can save itself, thank you very much."

The Sith broadcasted the new laws of the land over the Net. People were reporting in Republic soldiers by the dozen. Anyone trying to escape the atmosphere was shot down. Escape pods were stripped clean and the residents were killed without question. Unless, of course, a Jedi was among them.

That made things...difficult.

I pursed my lips. "So, I'll ask again in case you were deaf five seconds ago. What's in it for me?"

Before I could look up more information about a pod that fell into the Under City, the datapad disappeared from my loose fingers. Carth's furious face replaced it.

"Don't touch my stuff." My lips thinned when Carth shut down the datapad and sat across from me. "Who are you?" He shook a finger. "Your record was made a day before we left on the Spire. You aren't a normal Republic soldier, are you?"

"I see. There's nothing in this for me. Otherwise, you wouldn't have changed the subject—"

"Answer. My question."

Now, this was tricky. Since this planet was indeed quarantined like the Republic soldier said, I had no hope escaping the planet. Smuggler or not. This Bastila could be my ticket out of here. Including her Republic friend. If I told Carth "I'm a smuggler, trust me," that would get us nowhere. Especially since this soldier appeared ridged and unwavering in his choice of morals.

When a minute had past of me thinking, I shrugged.

"Of course I'm a normal Republic soldier. I was on the roster."

I mean, it wasn't as if I was lying.

Onasi didn't look convinced.

"I see." He really didn't see anything though, did he? His face appeared strained. "You probably already know my name. I'm Carth Onasi, Republic fighter pilot and commander of the Endar Spire."

"Wes." I responded. "Wes Gale."

After a weird moment of silence, Carth grabbed two blasters from the desk and slid them into their holsters. Meanwhile, I was weaponless after the escapade inside the Endar Spire.

A rattle beside me brought my attention to the ratty table. An old looking blaster had been thrown there. There were a few nicks in the handle—probably by some gang member.

"We should probably go armed around here," Carth said. "Taris isn't exactly the warmest of places."

He didn't have to tell me twice.

* * *

When we both left the apartment the soldier had found, Onasi led us into a cantina in order to scout for information. He already had an idea of where Bastila might be. However, in order to get down into the Under City, we would either have to join the Sith (not possible) or start something in the middle of the Upper City's streets (which was just plain stupid).

All elevators were blocked off, all aircraft had been taken, all paths to freedom—gone. Carth visited a shop in order to find a speeder, however even those had been embargoed. The Sith were really thorough, weren't they? And this Malak was desperate to get his hands on that Jedi. Desperate enough to lock down an entire planet. How could we do this? After all, it was us two against a Sith army. I gambled a little in Tatooine once. The odds did not look pretty. Not pretty at all.

"So, you say that you're a soldier," he shouted over the cantina music, "but, you don't seem to know the proper way to treat your upper officers..."

I ignored the soldier's question about my suspicious background and pretended I couldn't hear him over the singing Rodian. The cantina he brought us to was lamer than a lame bantha. It was "pristine" which meant "boring." He shouted that stupid question a few times before asking it directly into my ear.

The dark strands in my scalp rose.

"Kriff! I heard you, I heard you!" Huffing, I raised a hand at the human bartender. If I had to talk to this soldier, then I needed a drink too. "I was a new recruit, remember?"

"New recruits are required to have taken at least a year of military schooling in Coruscant. All recruits know the regulations and their duties because of it."

"I didn't need to take your stupid school."

Carth frowned. "What?"

"Because I'm a military genius. Bonafide marvel. That's right."

When my drink arrived Carth stopped the glass from sliding all the way to me.

"Do you think I'm an _idiot_?"

I looked between his face and the drink before I sat back—disappointed. " _Y_ _ou're_ the one who's pointing fingers and asking personal questions. How would it make you feel if I asked if you were a real recruit?"

"What...that doesn't—that doesn't even make any sense! I've been in the Republic army since the Mandalorian Wars."

The Mandalorian Wars... _yeesh_.

"Then you know that the Republic is desperate for soldiers. Talented soldiers. Like me."

The soldier roll his eyes. "You have the ego of a bantha."

I reached over and yanked my drink from his protective grip. Carth crossed his arms and started making faces in the reflections in the glass of the bar. Maybe he was thinking up an idea for our escape? I hoped so. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. The sooner I separated myself from the Republic and the Jedi, the better.

A few off-worlders argued with an off duty Sith near the entrance of the cantina. Their shouting drowned out the annoying band and before any of us could react, blaster fire stung the poor man who fell down in pain. The Upper City's tight lipped nobility took no notice of what would be a crime in Coruscant or any other Inner Rim planet. Of course, this was normal in the Outer Rim.

The soldier scoffed. "This place is disgusting. The rich treat aliens and strangers like dirt while the Lower City dwellers gang fight and murder on the streets. The Sith occupancy hasn't helped this planet at all."

I raised my drink. "Welcome to the Outer Rim, _commander_."

Carth looked over his shoulder at me. "You were born in the Outer Rim?"

"Deralia."

He sat back as I took a sip of the beer.

"That planet was attacked by the Mandalorians, wasn't it?" I stopped drinking and glared at him from my cup. "Actually, now that I remember it, Deralia was one of the first—"

I slammed the beer down. Who did he think he was asking all of these personal questions? I was fine with the suspicion about my occupation but Deralia? I didn't want to be reminded of that. Ever. So, I left the bar, and my drink. If the "commander" wanted answers so badly, he could find a railing and jump off it.

When a hand grabbed my shoulder, I turned, fuming. "Look, _mister paranoid_ , I don't want to answer your damn questions—"

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?"

A dark-haired and easy smiling woman held an untouched drink. The commander still sat at the bar...with my own drink. He better pay me back for that.

I smiled at the sweet woman. "I...no. Sorry about that. It was just an annoying _friend_ of mine."

 _Friend_ with the broad definition.

She didn't look like a noble from the Upper City. She lacked the pinched, stuck up expressions that all of the other people had around here along with the reflective clothing that blinded anyone who passed by.

She smiled. "I see. We all have those sorts of friends, don't we?" She coughed then placed her drink onto a table. "You don't look like one of these stuck up snobs. This planet is so dull. And the cantinas...crowded with dull people. We should have put a curfew on this disgusting planet when we had the chance. Still they complain."

A Sith? My opinion of this woman changed and all I could see was a black armored machine.

Carth looked in my direction with a tilted head.

The woman was still blabbering. "The higher ups are all so serious. Why can't we just relax for a little? It's not like the Jedi is going anywhere."

Her cheeks glowed underneath the weak cantina lights. Heh...she was smitten by me, wasn't she? Or drunk.

"I totally agree." I patted her shoulder. "I mean, if you go around with a negative and paranoid attitude all the time, then what's the fun in that?"

Carth. Take the hint.

The woman's face brightened. "Right! It's all about attitude. You know...you really seem to understand how I feel about this. You're an off-worlder, aren't you?"

I hesitated at this question before nodding. "Pretty much. And I've been _so bored_ just sitting around. So, I understand where you're coming from."

Her body grew close. My smile grew. Hook, line, and sinker.

"Really? Well, tonight at midnight we're having an off duty party with my friends. I don't know many people in my shift so I'll be kind of lonely. Why don't you..." her face was even closer to mine, "...join me?"

"Gale."

My heart jumped when Carth's voice interrupted. I backed away from this woman then waved a hand towards the soldier.

"This is my friend that I was talking about. Can he come with us?"

The woman took stock of the confused looking middle-aged man. I could see that she didn't really find anything attractive about him. Though, I didn't know why that was important.

"Just so long as he stays out of our way. So, you'll be there in an hour? My apartment is just a few blocks away from here. The old Republic estates. Room B-145."

"Of course."

The woman blushed then left the both of us with slow steps. My grin was still plastered on my face as she left. Carth gave me an accusing look.

I scowled.

"Shut up."

He held up his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"You were going to."

* * *

True to her word, the Sith party was held in B-145.

I couldn't believe our luck that some Sith woman fell in love with me! And Carth could keep his damn thoughts to himself. This was for his "mission." I'm not going to be falling in love with some Sith woman. When I told Carth this he held his forehead. The elevator stopped at floor B.

"You really think I believe that crap? How is a party _with the Sith_ going to help us find Bastila, exactly?"

"I'm thinking, all right?"

Wasn't he the supposed "commander?" Why didn't he think up a way for us to escape?

We stepped out of the elevator and spotted the party immediately. A dark helmeted Sith bouncer stood before the apartment doors while the flashing lights and electric music vibrated the entire floor. I couldn't help but smile as soon as I saw the party.

Carth groaned.

"I'm too old to be doing this..."

The Sith bouncer held up a hand when we arrived at the door. I nonchalantly placed my hands in my red jacket pockets.

"Who are you, spacer?" The helmet distorted his voice.

I looked back at Carth who was giving me the side-eye.

"Um...well."

"He's a friend," called out a familiar voice.

From the loud music and flashing lights, the same woman I met before smiled at me. Her blush was even clearer in the party lights. I wondered if she was still drunk. Well, that would make my job easier now, wouldn't it?

I passed the bouncer with a grin and in return he held his rifle tight. Some people... _really_.

About twenty Sith were at this supposed party. The bass of the music was turned up and I was afraid that my own heart might hop out of my chest and onto the floor. Cigar smoke drifted from the corner and a few people were laughing at the couch. Including the women. I twisted around then pat Carth quickly on the shoulder.

"Well, have fun, Orangy!"

Before I left, Carth grabbed my shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get information. My way."

The older man grimaced. "Just don't get too carried away. We aren't here for fun, you know..."

I shrugged him off as I finally left for the fun _What a party-pooper._ Military types always took their duties way too serious.

I approached the couches at the other end of the room. The Sith woman I met before sat beside another man—one who was smirking at me.

"You're the one Sara was talking about?" he asked.

This man had his arm around the woman Sara. He gave me a knowing smile that pissed me off. Immensely. Had she been flirting with me before? Was this her date? Impossible...

As I pondered whether or not I had been duped, Sara held up a green bottle.

"The Sith really do pay well for this crappy job. Tarisian ale has to be one of the best distilled ales in the galaxy."

Her "partner" laughed. "Don't let Jiora hear that. What a light weight..."

I felt out of place in their little group. Hadn't she said that she would be lonely here?

 _No_. I hadn't planned on anything serious. I wasn't that desperate for a woman's affections. I had standards.

When she poured out shots, I caught Carth's eye from across the room. When it came to socializing, Carth definitely wasn't up to task. He created a social vacuum around where he was sitting against the wall. Those glares he was shooting at me weren't helping his chances.

Sara beckoned me to sit beside her. When I did, she slid a shot glass into my hand. "Here. Try it. You _probably_ won't get another... _chance_..."

I remembered what this substance did. And it was already having its effect upon the woman and her friends. So, I laughed, nodding my head, and drained most of the ale onto the floor. And no one batted an eyelid. Sara chuckled and bent over my knees in her drunken stupor, and her partner gave me a dangerous eye.

By the end of this night, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone was unconscious.

 _Meanwhile_...

"So, I hear the Sith fleet is looking for a... Barista? Balista?"

Sara took another shot. "Bastila. The Jedi. No one can find that bitch though. Without her, we have to stay here in this _dump_. Why did I even join the Sith?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Why did you?"

She laughed as she tried pouring herself another shot but spilled most of the clear liquid onto the blue carpet.

"My planet had been taken. My family would have starved if I didn't join. Not really a problem though. We're going to win anyway."

I watched a wet spot on the floor. It...disturbed me that the Republic was beating back soldiers who didn't actually want to fight. But, what could they do?

Before long, the entire room except for Carth, the bouncer, and I were in a drunken sleep. Yes, Tarisian ale really did pack that much of a punch. I tried the substance before and let's just say that they won't remember my face in the morning. Which meant we had plenty of time to snoop around now. And I had already thought of a plan.

I searched the room before I found what I was looking for. A wardrobe. Stepping over bodies, I took off my jacket then threw it at Carth. He caught then stared at the red fabric.

"What are you doing?" Carth asked.

I gave him a blank stare.

"What do you think, genius?"

I opened the wardrobe and took one of the uniform blocks from the shelves. Hooking the dark armor around my waist, I pressed a switch near the side and the armor fit to my form. A helmet turned my vision a blue tint—night vision. I turned to Carth then threw him a higher ranking Sith uniform.

He gave me another one of his looks.

"You really think this'll work?"

"These Sith are _pretty_ dense. Trust me." Instead of waiting for his response, I pointed to the Sith uniform he was holding. "Get dressed, Orangy. That jacket of yours makes you stand out."

The pilot gave me a heavy sigh but did as I instructed. We both walked out like we had a purpose. As we left, I muttered a "going on patrol" remark to the bouncer. This was the art of smuggling in its _purest_ form.

Once we entered the elevator to leave, Carth threw my jacket over my head.

"Carry your own shit."

* * *

The Lower City reminded me of my old ship's atmosphere. Try as I might, it was hard not to smile underneath my helmet as both Carth and I walked through the dangerous halls. The Sith guarding the elevator hadn't batted an eye. Hadn't even asked for a reason why we were going down there. Of course, this was all in the art of human smuggling—play upon people's faulty expectations.

I re-gripped my blaster within my hands. My black gloves were getting sweaty just by walking down these halls. The insulation was nonexistent down here. Fans whirled above us, sure, but that only blew hot air down. The Sith armor wasn't helping.

I had enough of the helmet—no matter how much I enjoyed making faces behind the commander's back. I pressed a button to release myself from the inner humid atmosphere.

Carth was ahead of me in the Sith uniform. He gave me another "why don't you just behave?" look.

"We need to gather information about Bastila, Gale. Remember, that is our priority here."

Maybe he thought I was deaf. "What do you think I'm doing? I don't see _you_ looking for anything, mister commander."

"What am I—? _Look_. I'm the only one who is actually taking this seriously." He sighed, then muttered underneath his breath. "Out of _all_ the people in the Endar Spire, I had to be stuck with this nerf herder of a child..."

Ignoring that comment, I wiped my forehead of the sweat that accumulated.

"Taking this seriously? Of _course_ I'm taking this seriously. I take everything seriously."

"You know, I find that hard to believe. You have a questionable background in the Republic Navy, easily convince a Sith to do... _whatever,_ agree to join their party, and you're smiling and joking about this along the way!"

"What? Just because we're stuck down here, you're expecting me to cry about it?"

Carth groaned. "You just—you don't even _know_ what the Sith could do if or when they find us, do you?" His military eyes set into his face like a brick. My ever smiling face decayed. "The Force can do terrible things to a mind. They could wipe out your memory and destroy your very identity." His gaze met mine. "When the Sith finds me or you or Bastila...what do you think is going to happen then?"

I glanced away from Carth's intense stare. That Sith on the Endar Spire almost choked me to death with his Force powers. The pale man smiled as if my pain was amusing to him. From that experience alone, I knew that I feared the Sith. If they caught me with Carth then I would be subjected to their tortures. Who knew what they could do to us just to get information about the Jedi?

I really, _really_ , didn't want to know the answer to that.

I looked back at Carth and the expression on his face was exactly as it had been when I looked away. What was I suppose to do? Mope around like this soldier and hope that Bastila will come waltzing into our arms?

Before I could give Carth a proper response, a red light from above interrupted my thoughts. I twisted around and pointed my blaster at the noise.

Down the hall of the old Lower City balcony, a battle had begun.


	4. Taris: An Odd Pair

I ducked when another beam shot out from the scuffle that took place down the hall. Carth moved right when the wild laser beams missed the intended targets and almost hit us. Rodians, Biths, and Twi'lek were battling it out with blasters and grenades in the middle of the hall. Since I had no idea who to shoot, I kept my weapon close in case one of the gang members decided to be trigger happy.

Carth was on the other side of the hall and his focus was entirely on the battle. The dark blue and black dressed aliens were overpowering the brighter colored ones. Fortunately, none of them noticed the Republic soldiers that were hiding beyond the hall.

A few alien curses that would translate into standard "shit!" erupted after a few more moments passed. I gave the soldier another look that he didn't notice. So, since I had no instructions from my "upper officer", might as well be preemptive. I moved towards the group prepared to grab for my blaster as soon as the goons pointed their weapons at me. Hearing a forced whisper from behind that I ignored, I stood, my blaster in my raised hand when the darker dressed gang members shot down all the other aliens they were trying to kill.

Since I had experience with gangs before, I could reason with them.

I gave them a nervous laugh when they all looked at me.

"No need to shoot, pal. We're not—"

"A Sith! Look _scum_ we don't want to pay you a single credit, you hear!"

_Great._ I thought...well I did sort of forget that we were still dressed like Sith. Whoops.

I jumped back when one of the aliens went for me with a stun stick with intentions to claw me apart from tooth to groin. I pressed a switch on the Sith armor to activate my helmet and blue shield as I ran back. I cursed when a red blaster shot skimmed the surface of the armor. Carth was already shooting with his duel blasters.

The only remark he made upon my return—

"Good job."

I cursed again—I just missed getting a blaster bolt in the back.

"Shut up."

I shot off a round at some fat looking Twi'lek—two burnt holes appearing in his forehead. I smiled at my precision and ducked again when the aliens returned fire. This time, a grenade had been added to the party mix. As if there wasn't enough fireworks already.

Carth put new charges in his right blaster. I squinted past their firepower. Five of the criminals were still standing. Kriff, how tough were these guys? Normal gang fights never lasted this long. Actually, gangs like this never had proper weapons not to mention _grenades_.

Then, the flashing bolts ceased. I took my chance and pulled the trigger of my old blaster. Another gang member went down with a mark between his eyes. Carth, meanwhile, missed despite the extra coverage of two blasters.

And the four of them were drawing closer. Kriff, kriff, kriff. I grabbed the cortosis knife I kept in my boot and held it in my left hand while I shot through the grenade smoke. If they got any closer, I'll carve their eyes out of their sockets.

Then, silence.

I dared to peer out to see why the party stopped.

My curiosity was greeted with four corpses with blaster holes in their heads. Carth held his blasters up with a creased brow. And then, like a ghost from a haunted ship, a short man in a blue coat stepped out of the smoke holding a long blaster in his gloved hand. He wore perception goggles that covered his eyes and a white turban that probably covered a bald head.

Confused and worried that he would shoot at us, I stuck my blaster out and turned my helmet and shield on again as I stepped out of cover. Carth hissed at me but I ignored the precarious man.

"We yield. Hold fire!" My muffled shout barely rose over the settling noise of broken machinery. The man kept his blaster up and pointed in my direction. Hoping that he wasn't a bloodthirsty psychopath, I edged forward. "Look...thanks for taking out those—"

Turban man rose a finger.

"One."

"What?"

One?

Carth jumped out of cover and stormed towards me like a soldier on a mission.

Turban man rose another finger.

"Two."

I chuckled. "Look, guy. We can talk this over—"

A strong force grabbed my blaster arm and tugged me down the hall. Taken off guard, I was forced to follow where my arm was going. That is until I realized that it was Carth who was dragging around me like a worn toy.

"Hey! Ow, what the hell is your problem?"

I mean...was Turban guy going to kill us after he counted down or something? I knew a lot of bloodthirsty people but that was going too far.

Eventually, we both turned the corner to the long balcony hallway. And my arm was beginning to hurt.

"Just _stop_ alright. I'm not going to go back to that weirdo. I swear."

The soldier released my arm and looked back at me with terror in his eyes. I leaned against the wall and took stock of what happened to the Sith armor after that battle. Part of the shield was damaged when I checked the percentage and my blaster charge was still going strong. Other then that, I was okay health wise. And Carth looked about the same.

The soldier shook his head in mild astonishment.

"I can't believe that man is still alive..."

I reopened the helmet and mask.

"You know him?"

The commander's frown was strained and his grip on his blasters tight as if the short man would ambush us at any second.

"He's Calo Nord. An infamous bounty hunter. The holonet news gobbles him up like rare steak in Coruscant. That man...he kills then disappears into thin air like a phantom. Apparently, he works for the Exchange too and deals with smuggling and counter-fitting. We're lucky we even got out of that encounter alive."

Calo Nord? I gazed down at the cold steel floors in thought. Why hadn't I seen or heard of this man before? I worked as a smuggler myself. Wouldn't I have run into this bounty hunter? Huh, guess not. It is a large galaxy, after all.

Carth moved and peeked down the hall. I followed. When we ran, we must have been turned around. We were completely lost now. Fortunately, before long, loud music and seducing laughter flowed from a cantina. A Rodian bouncer watched us like a kath hound.

I gave Carth a smirk.

He sighed. "Right now? Really? It's not even noon."

"I mean, we almost died." I shrugged. "Also, we need information."

"Take this seriously, recruit."

"I'm always serious, Onasi. Believe me."

* * *

This cantina was different compared to that Upper City snobbish one. Smoke drifted around tables and Twi'lek girls danced around poles to the sleazy music from a warm tuba. I sniffed the alcoholic and hormone infused air. And smiled.

This. Now _this_ was home.

I eyed the Pazaak tables with eagerness. Unfortunately, I couldn't play because my deck blasted to pieces along with everything else that I owned. Maybe it was for the best—I didn't have any credits on me to gamble anyway.

Carth glowered while I eyed the gambling and dancing tables. His thoughts were more than likely the following:

" _I_ _have morals. I hate having fun! This recruit is a nerf herder. La-di-dah-di-dah!_ "

Carth's thoughts needed to shut up.

We were still in the Sith uniforms so we were getting strange looks. I tried my best to blend in. And what did a Sith look like? Evil, of course. And stupid. I think it was working too because a few people looked to the ground when I gazed in their direction.

Yep, I blended in. Definitely.

Unfortunately, my intimidation didn't last.

A Wookiee over seven feet tall stood before me like a carpet wall. One that was crawling with fleas.

"You're a... _"_ the Wookiee growled in his language.

"Big Z!"

A high-pitched voice called from the dancing floor's entrance. The Wookiee gave me a suspicious look with his dark eyes before turning and answering a blue Twi'lek that was about half his height. Rather comical looking. The Wookiee stood before a group of blue and black dressed Rodians. They looked almost the same as the gang members that attacked us earlier.

Their antennas shivered when the walking fur blanket stomped up to them with heavy feet.

"Mission. _"_ The Wookiee growled. "I wasn't done with lunch and now I have to scare these Vulkars off again? _"_

To the untrained ear, the Wookiee sounded menacing. Carth looked pale, almost as if the beast had said "Roar, I eat people for breakfast."

The Rodians looked between each other. The Twi'lek, her lekku swishing over her shoulder, smirked.

"Come on, Big Z. They don't deserve _that._ "

One of the green Rodians turned a beautiful shade of tin.

"N-Now look here, little girl. Stop hiding behind your walking carpet—"

"Big Z?"

The Wookiee growled again. Something about being hungry. The rest of the Rodian group blanched.

"Alright, alright!"

The Rodians turned away from the two and bolted. Before they escaped, I stuck out a leg and tripped one of the gang members. His friends glared at me with red and black eyes. It was an accident. Really.

When the alien got up, he rose a hand to punch me but the carpet behind my shoulder roared. The Rodian and his friends scattered like the cowards they were.

Smiling, I faced the Twi'lek and the Wookiee. The Twi'lek, Mission, scanned our Sith armor with a frown.

"You're Sith, aren't you?"

I was starting regret getting these uniforms. But before I could convince her that we weren't Sith, my brow furrowed...

"You speak fluent basic?"

The Twi'lek scoffed. "So what? Is that weird to you or something? I don't know about you, but I just think it's easier to speak this way, you know?"

"We should go, Mission." The Wookiee roared this and drew closer to me. He was using the same tactic that he used with those Rodian bullies. "These Sith aren't to be trusted."

I waved my hand. "Whoa, wait, don't leave! We aren't..." I trailed off when I realized half-way that they were wasted words.

However, Mission tilted her head.

"You understand Big Z?"

I blinked. "Yeah, what about it?"

Her face grew bright. The Wookiee calmed his stance.

"You aren't Sith, are you?" Mission said. "Sith don't understand Wookiees. So...who are you and why are you acting like Sith soldiers?"

I sighed. That would be a long story. I sort of appreciated this girl's perceptiveness though. I was getting tired of this ruse.

Carth took over this side of the discussion and sat down at a booth, the teenage Mission sitting across from the soldier. Since neither of them were scooting over, I stood over them like a frozen statue.

Carth began.

"We...aren't exactly—"

"We're Republic soldiers."

Might as well get to the point with this perceptive girl. She didn't look patient either.

The soldier gaped at me with open hostility.

"You—"

"We need information, don't we?"

Mission bent over the table, and leaned her chin onto her open blue palm.

"Republic soldiers?" She snapped a finger. "Oh, so you're one of those people the Sith are looking for. From the escape pods."

I laughed nervously.

"Right...yeah."

I forced myself to sit next to Carth. He grimaced when I sat a bit too close before he slid away to give me space.

Carth growled at me. "We shouldn't be telling the whole planet who we are, _recruit_."

"Why shouldn't we? If we don't trust anyone then we won't get anywhere. Do you want to be stuck here forever?"

Mission waved her hands. "Oh, no! Don't worry. The Hidden Beks don't like the Sith so I'll keep quiet about you two."

I gave Carth a nod, looking for approval, however this soldier's paranoid energy was infinite in scale and dangerous in level.

"Whatever. It's too late _now_." He crossed his arms. "We came down here in search of the Jedi Bastila Shan. She should be somewhere in the Under City. Do you have any idea how to get down there?"

The Twi'lek frowned.

"Wait...Bastila? The Vulkars' share of the swoop race prize?"

Both of us looked at each other and then glanced back at Mission. Then, we bombarded her at the same time with questions.

"You know where she is?"

"Swoop race prize?"

Mission stuttered. "Um...well..."

"Is she alright? Is she safe?"

"They made her into a prize? Like...to do what?"

"I don't know...the Vulkars—"

"Who are these Vulkars?"

"Is the prize a sexy lap dance?"

"Wes!"

"What?"

I was interested...

Mission sat back in shock, looking between us as if debating on which question she would answer first.

"Wait just...guys...just one at a time..."

Carth took the chance and spoke first.

"Where is Bastila?"

The Twi'lek sat forward. "She's the Vulkars' share of the victory prize. You really shouldn't get involved with them though. They used to be a part of the Hidden Beks before Brejik...betrayed us. All of the gangs in the Lower City are placing their stakes in this race. Bastila is one of the prizes."

I held my chin. "You're acting like you're a part of the Hidden Beks...but you're not, are you?"

"H-How did you know that?"

I snorted. "Well, now I know for sure."

It was obvious. I didn't see any symbols on her nor was she old enough to participate in gang warfare. Of course, age didn't really matter in Outer Rim planets when it came to crime and violence.

Since I left her question unanswered, she turned to Carth. "I can take you to the hideout if you want. Gadon wouldn't mind a few Sith uniforms as tribute. Though Zaedra..." She paused then waved a hand. "Nah, you'll be fine. Just behave and they'll welcome you with open arms."

I really doubted that. Carth didn't look convinced either. Mission looked at Zaalbar who was pigging out on nerf steak steeped in spicy Durosian sauce. She grumbled when she saw the many plates stacked onto the table.

"Ugh...Big Z. I _told_ you."

"I paced myself. Promise."

Then he chomping the steak whole and almost consumed the fork with it. The Twi'lek swiped the saucy plate and shoved it on top of the others. She grabbed the bill that sat on the table.

"When I said _pace_ , Big Z, I meant at a _normal_ person's rate of digestion. Not yours."

The Wookiee wasn't too happy and stood. He grabbed a credit slip from his belt and placed it onto the filthy table.

"I'm paying, don't worry."

"You better."

* * *

We had been walking for hours. Hours of walking down stairs into the heart of the Lower City and riding elevators down into unknown territory. Swoops and speeders raced past us with howling drunks and laughing scantily clad Twi'leks. The further we went, the darker the halls became.

I walked close behind the odd duo of Twi'lek and Wookiee—holding my blaster close. I wasn't going to take any chances. The commander held both of his blasters with an even tighter grip then my own. Mission and Zaalbar on the other hand were walking through the halls like we were skipping through the beautiful fields of Alderaan. How could this little kid be so...relaxed? She was starting to creep me out.

When we stopped, I flinched. Carth hadn't even noticed the young girl stopping to begin with and continued walking.

"We're here!" she announced.

Nothing but steel walls and crazy swoop drivers were nearby.

I really hope that this girl wasn't crazy too.

"Look kid...can you stop leading us nowhere?" Carth asked.

The Tarisian sun was already setting in the sky—yes, that's how long we'd been walking.

Mission crossed her arms. "I'm not a kid and I _am_ leading you somewhere. Watch."

The blue Twi'lek rubbed her hands together and licked her lips. She then stomped the ground in a strange rhythm. After she did this five times, lines the size of hair strands appeared below us. Mission—the little masochistic—smiled as the very ground began to shake and propel downward.

A hidden elevator? When I looked up, what we had thought was the solid ground closed with a mechanical noise and orange lights flashing.

Mission was still smiling, proud, as if she had invented the elevator.

"The Hidden Beks live in an old shopping center. They used to use these elevators to bring high priced speeders into stores. And all the doors leading to the old shopping center collapsed. Pretty smart huh? Makes a perfect hideout for us."

I would have agreed with her, but she was still scaring me with her blasé attitude.

After only a few floors, a mechanical sound flipped and we were moving horizontally instead of vertically. Carth jerked. I smiled behind my shoulder towards the commander and received a look in return. The commander's eyes must hurt after glaring at me so much.

The elevator wobbled. I wondered how old this place was.

"Hopefully Gadon will accept you guys. If Zaedra bothers you...don't worry. She's sort of like an older sister to me. I'll convince her," she said.

"You mentioned a Brejik before," Carth said, "and he used to be a part of the Hidden Beks?"

The Twi'lek's energetic face wilted and the moving platform shuddered with its old age.

"Brejik...Gadon treated him like he was his son. Of course, I hadn't known him before, but other Beks told me that he was a reckless and immature brat. Even so, Gadon wanted him to be his successor. But when Gadon got into that accident...well, Brejik wanted to take over. Gadon said no of course—the Hidden Beks are fine under his leadership—but Brejik didn't agree. So, he joined the Vulkars. Now, they're even more powerful than they were before."

The lift stopped before a cargo door and opened up into the ceiling of an ancient garage. Mission strutted in when the door opened enough for her to slide through and waited for us taller folk by the door. When the garage opened enough for the Wookiee to step through, I followed into the open space that was the Hidden Bek base.

So much was going on at once. Twi'leks and humans were all busy either talking or working on swoop bikes or taking breaks and eating. They were all dressed brightly in reds and yellows—colors that reminded me of the Republic soldier uniforms. An ancient repair droid was messing with a panel causing he old plasma lights to flicker and spark above our heads.

Mission led us towards a slick looking swoop. A bald white-eyed man and a pale Twi'lek stood beside it. The swoop's duel engines were turned on and an Ithorian laid on his back underneath the chassis.

"The accelerator will have to be placed below the pit in order for both engines to maximize the output," the mechanic said. With a swift nod from the Twi'lek, the Ithorian mech turned on a beamed screw driver.

Mission waved at the two over the buzzing.

"Gadon! Zaedra!"

Both of them faced Mission. The bald man—probably Gadon—called for the mechanic to stop. The pale Twi'lek unsheathed her blaster.

"Mission, why have you brought _Sith_ into the Hidden Bek base? You know that you're not supposed to bring in outsiders without permission."

The blue girl crossed her arms and pouted. "I'm not a kid anymore, Zaedra. And these people aren't Sith. They're Republic soldiers."

The older Twi'lek gave us a second look. When her gaze passed over me, she gripped her blaster tighter.

"You don't know that. The Sith are great deceivers—"

"Enough, Zaedra. If these men were Sith then they would have started threatening us by now. And I have all of the Hidden Beks and you to protect me."

Carth took a step forward. "We were wondering if you knew about a Bastila and where the Vulkars might be keeping her."

This guy had a one-track-mind, huh? Maybe he had some sort of crush on the Jedi. It was his funeral.

Gadon nodded. "Let's go where we have a bit more privacy."

I looked back at the mechanic. He was adding more parts to the swoop bike—a larger engine sat beside him. Was that the accelerator? I didn't really know much about swoop parts. Sure, I gambled and watched swoop races before. Most of them were held in Outer Rim planets since the Republic banned the dangerous sport. The races usually had a death or two if not half of the participants on bad days.

In any case, I'd never considered racing myself. Humans were not good at the sport—we had slow reflexes compared to other species. And I liked my life. Very much. So, hopefully, we could find a way to get Bastila without having to resort to racing for her.

The Hidden Bek leader Gadon led us into a small office. The automatic doors swished closed behind us. Zaalbar was forced to be left behind due to his size. Gadon sat behind a glass desk and Zaedra still held her blaster close.

The leader sighed. "For the love of—Zaedra, put that blaster down!"

"I won't until these two give me a reason not to."

A reason, huh? Really? I smirked before pressing a button at my waist. The Sith armor retracted into the smaller belt version. It still weighed a ton, of course. I kicked the armor towards them without comment. Since Carth's uniform was his actual clothes, he would be in his underwear if he offered the outfit too. Just picturing that scene almost made me crack up.

"This good enough for you? These weren't ours to begin with anyway," I said.

The older Twi'lek took a second to hear my words while Gadon's previously unsure face brightened. Zaedra hesitated before hefting up the armor and placed it down onto the desk.

" _F_ _ine_. Whatever. I believe you."

Something told me in her tone of voice that she didn't believe me at all. Still. I mean, what Sith would give up his own armor? This Twi'lek was almost at Onasi's level of paranoia. _Almost_. After all, she didn't beat the commander himself.

Feeling exposed, I crossed my arms. "So...Bastila is a prize in the upcoming swoop race." Gadon nodded—his eyes stuttered and glistened as they gazed towards me. I blinked. "What's wrong with your eyes, old man?"

The Twi'lek growled. "Don't you _dare_ insult Gadon, worm!"

I was making an _observation_ not an _insult_ you _bitch_. I knew if I said that, however, she would shoot my balls off.

"Zaedra, it's alright." Gadon didn't look too perturbed compared to his bodyguard. "I was blinded by flying machine parts during a swoop race just a couple of years ago. My eyes have implants and I can see just fine, but I can never race again."

While that sounded depressing and all, it was his fault for even trying swoop races in the first place. Only suicidal people tried those. I mean...I guess it was also suicidal to ram a collapsing ship into the ground. And who would be stupid enough to do that?

For some reason, Mission hid in the corner. She probably thought that the older Twi'lek would yell at her for leading us here. I felt a little guilty about that.

"Anyways, I'm sure you don't want to hear about me," the Bek continued. "You want information on that Republic soldier, don't you?"

I tilted my head. "Republic soldier? But Bastila's a—"

"Yes, we do," Carth interrupted. He really wanted to hide the fact that she was the Jedi everyone was searching for? These guys didn't look malicious. Compared to those Vulkars, they actually had morals. Probably. I mean, a man could hope, right?

Gadon raised his eyebrows. "Well, we have no idea where your friend is. Brejik is probably keeping her locked away somewhere nice and safe. We won't see her until the race."

Carth didn't like that answer. "She has to be down here somewhere. We don't have much time—"

"If you go off and steal the Vulkar's share of the prize, Brejik will point his finger at us and all of the neutral gangs will fall into the palm of his hand. We can't afford to go against this tradition."

This Gadon probably knew where she was but because he didn't want us ruining his little gang war, he wouldn't tell us anyway. Sneaky bastard.

What were we to do now? I asked this mentally but Onasi remained oblivious to my silent question. Because there was no way—

"I know!" Mission shouted. "One of them could win the race and get their friend back! And even if a Bek won we could return her to them."

I found it interesting that Mission referred to the Jedi like some washed away and lost item. But she had stated the possibility I had been avoiding. I didn't like the idea of entering in a swoop race. At all. Carth didn't seem to like the idea either.

I laughed. "Um...but we don't have a swoop bike. And we're not suicidal."

Gadon chuckled at my statement. "Well, we could fix that problem. Do you remember that swoop we were working on? That bike is custom to this course and is being fit with a high-tech accelerator as we speak. However...no one is crazy enough to ride it. Those accelerators have been known to be... _unstable_. We will give you this swoop if you want. We have no other spares."

This guy had his bases covered, didn't he? As if participating in a swoop race wasn't crazy enough, he was also offering us an exploding bike?

Hmm...do I burn myself slowly or implode myself with a grenade and get it over with? Which sounded better? If I was to be honest—and if I had to do it—I would choose the latter.

But I didn't have to choose because I wasn't going to do it.

Carth, however, was intent on getting his precious Jedi back.

"We'll do it."

"We _are not_ doing it." I interrupted. "Do you know how crazy a swoop bike race is? Not to mention participating in one with the ticking time bomb?" I addressed Gadon. "Do you think we're stupid, old man?"

"So you won't? Racing with the accelerator may be the only way you can win your friend back. You sure?"

Oh _come on_. "Honestly, I wanted to escape this planet days ago."

Carth glared at me. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. We aren't getting off this planet without her, recruit."

I could feel my face turning red with anger but I kept my thoughts quiet. After all, there was only one swoop bike. He could ride it to his death if he wanted to. _I_ wasn't going to sacrifice myself for some Jedi I barely knew.

Gadon looked between us. "Whatever you decide to do, the swoop race is tomorrow evening. You don't have time to fight between yourselves."

"Tomorrow?" we both shouted.

We were really cutting it close there. If we hadn't found Mission today, the Jedi would have been long gone. Carth would have failed his little mission and I might not have had a chance of getting off this planet. I was beginning to wonder when our luck would run dry.

Mission beamed beside Carth. Zaedra—who had been silent during this discussion—glared at me.

"You can't be serious, Gadon. You're going to make an outsider ride that bike?"

The leader of the Beks sighed and shook his head. "Do _you_ want to ride that swoop bike, Zaedra?"

Her silence was an answer enough.

"I don't have much time to prepare, huh?" Carth muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "You asked for it."

And if he dies in the race—screw the Republic and the Jedi. I'm going to find my own way out.


	5. Taris: The Under City

The night was quiet.

I couldn't get any sleep what with our fate being decided tomorrow. So, I decided to hang around beside the balconies where the Beks took their swoops for secret test runs. Touching the cold metal of the railing, I gazed out at nothing in particular. My mind was too tired to process the numerous swoops dashing by.

The swoop race. The doomed swoop race.

Before, when I tossed and turned in the Bek's spare bunk, I thought up crazy scenarios of what tomorrow would bring with Carth attempting to win a swoop race. _Carth_. He had no chance of winning—pilot or no.

_Well, I could, right?_

Stupid thoughts. Of course not! This anxiety was due to this lack of control—it must have been. I hate when my fate is in other people's hands.

Funny. I had this...feeling. And not the normal gut feeling someone had before a fight or a raid. No. It was a sinking feeling. As if I knew something bad was about to happen. It just didn't seem right. Ha, there go my bipolar thoughts again. If only my brain could feel like one person for once.

Heavy steps and mechanical machinery echoed down the hall. I turned to look over my shoulder. Onasi walked towards me with bruised, sunken eyes. The door swished closed while he took his place beside me, holding the railing. He wore one of the Hidden Bek's spare uniforms since our clothes were still in our old apartment. A beard was starting to grow. Last I checked, one was sprouting on me as well.

He searched my face. "Couldn't sleep?"

I leaned back on the railing. "I don't need sleep, _commander_."

Onasi stared after my lackadaisical comment.

"I followed you—"

"Great."

"—because I can't seem to figure you out. One moment you act like this is all a joke—the next you manage to lead us closer to Bastila. Is it sheer luck? Or are you actually trying? And what made someone so...aloof join the Republic Navy?"

I turned and gripped the railing. A few lights flickered in the distance. I shrugged. "You could say things...blew up in my face."

Carth looked as if he related to what I said. Somehow.

"You know that we need Bastila in order to escape, right?"

"I _know_ okay?"

Carth's fingers slid away from the railing as he stood straighter. The soldier then glanced out into the dark beyond.

"There is just something off about this whole thing. With the Endar Spire. With you." I peered sideways at the military cut hair of the commander. I tried guessing what he was looking at. "The Sith fleet attacked as soon as we left hyperspace. Like they knew exactly where we'd be. Bastila—even though her powers are outmatched—didn't have enough time to use Battle Meditation because of that ambush. And then there's you."

"What about me?"

He didn't actually think I was to blame? The commander glanced away from what he was looking at in the beyond before leaning on the railing.

"It's just...these things don't add up. Tell me what happened. From your perspective."

I smiled tight.

"Well, I mean, I wasn't in a position to know what was going on. You probably know more than I do."

"No. There was something else."

" _What_?"

I was sick and tired of Carth's bipolar paranoid monologues. They made me depressed just listening to them.

"The Jedi boarded with you. Odd. Even though Admiral Dodonna's message had been delayed, the transfer date was the day before we departed. Just like you."

"What are you trying to say?"

Something snapped. I flinched after hearing the sound of cuffs attach onto my wrist to the railing. _How did he get those?_

"If you won't tell me what your position in the Republic fleet was before coming onto the Endar Spire, then I can't trust you."

_What_? He thought I was a Sith spy? I could feel my anger rise in my chest again as I pulled on the cuff. Is this a joke? If there was one person Carth should be blaming, it would be Bastila. But she wasn't here now, was she?

"Of course I'm not a...spy or whatever you think I am. The Jedi were the ones who forced me onto the Spire in the first place under their apparent 'orders' from the Republic."

"Until I hear the same from Bastila, I can't trust you. I will not be betrayed again."

I tugged on the cuff. "I thought we were supposed to be working together here."

"Oh, so now you want to work together?"

A darkness swirled about my vision.

"Let me go."

"I'll let you go once you tell me what you were doing on the Endar Spire."

The plasma bulb above us flickered.

"Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I'll tell you once you tell me why you're a paranoid, nerf herding, bastard."

Then, without warning, the plasma bulb shattered.

We both jumped back as glass shards began to rain down between us. I looked at the glass then back up at the ceiling, narrowing my eyes at the old lights. It didn't look like a malfunction. How did that light crush itself?

Carth hung his head in defeat. "You want to know? Fine." Kicking a few glass pieces to the side, he gazed back into the darkness. "My home planet, Telos, was one of the first planets destroyed in this war. By Saul. Saul Karath." He looked to me as if I would recognize the name but it didn't sound familiar to me. "You know, he was once Admiral Karath?"

I pursed my lips then smiled crookedly, nodding my head as if I remembered. He was probably referring to something a recruit in the army would know. I was going to fake as much as I could in order to get out of these cuffs.

Carth combed his hair back with his hand. He obviously didn't want to tell me a whole narrative. "He used to be my mentor during the Mandalorian Wars. When he led the Sith fleet to destroy Telos...I couldn't trust anyone anymore. Not you and not the Jedi either. It's nothing personal."

I jiggled the cuffs. "It sounds personal to me."

"Well, it isn't. And you aren't giving me any reasons for it not to be."

Touché.

The commander sighed. "Saul...he could have ignored the order. He could have just stood down but he didn't. That's why, when we meet again, I will kill him for what he did. He deserves little else."

I closed my eyes. Vengeance was like twin stars. They made a man who coveted them blind. Carth reminded me of that little saying. Nothing was going to stop him from being blind to everything else around him.

"Now its your turn." Carth glanced towards me. "Go on. Tell me what you've been trying to hide from me. Or I will leave you here. All night."

What should I say? What was there _to_ say after he poured his heart out and made himself vulnerable? I would be foolish not to tell him the truth now and regret when he comes after me later.

Yet, before I could admit anything, the doors swished open behind us. We both turned. A blue Twi'lek rushed out into the faint light, ignoring the glass that splayed along the floor.

"You have to help me! The Hidden Beks won't help me! Gadon and Zaedra won't help me! You just—please say you'll help me!" Mission cried out.

I pulled on the cuff when I flinched. "Wait just...slow down and tell us what's wrong."

Even I was surprised by my calm voice after that stressful conversation.

Mission took another breath, her face sullied with dirt and blood. "They've taken Zaalbar! The Vulkars! They...he told me to run and I didn't want to do it at first but he pushed me away and...and..."

Carth took a step forward. "Tell us the whole story Mission. From the beginning."

Another deep breath and the alien girl's rushed speaking condensed. "We were just walking around the Lower City, we do it all the time, but neither of us saw the ambush. I...I thought that it was safe. They've captured Zaalbar! B-Brejik's probably going to sell him into slavery! Please, we have to get into their base! The Hidden Beks...they're not going to risk it. Gadon and Zaedra...they've told me not to explore the streets at night before. You can help me though, right?"

I glanced towards Carth, his lips pursed in indecision. And even though I thought it was a stupid idea...

"We'll help you," I said.

Carth glanced towards me with a raised eyebrow. "I would normally agree, but we don't exactly have the time."

"They helped us find Bastila. It's only fair that we return the favor."

"I guess..."

Before Mission could thank us, her gaze trailed to my hand.

"Erm...why are you cuffed to the railing?"

* * *

Carth, reluctantly, released me from my binds with the caveat that I'd answer his questions later. That and he only cuffed me as a test. He still wasn't sure if I passed yet. And apparently _I_ was the one playing games here.

"There is one back way that the Vulkars barely keep guarded in the Under City," Mission said.

The floor number reached one hundred and I kept a tight grip on my blaster. With the credits I had left from being hired by the Republic, we each bought ourselves suitable protection. Which got us barely anything at all. I was still crying on the inside when that zero appeared on the Hidden Bek's datapad. Carth rolled his eyes when he saw my expression of pure defeat. I was bankrupt. Officially.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Carth, the worrywart, asked.

Mission's expression broke from her reassured smile. "Um...well...it's safe enough. I suppose. I mean, we go down here all the time."

I shook my head. "If it was safe then the Vulkars would close it down. A dangerous backdoor is useful for many people including the ones keeping something or someone hidden."

"You know, if I didn't know you, that would have sounded wise."

"Just common sense, Orangy."

I glanced at the elevator floor number. Thirty. I prayed one more time that we would get out of this alive.

The doors opened and a stench that I could barely tolerate wafted into the small elevator. My face scrunched up in literal pain and I glanced towards Carth to confirm whether I wasn't just imagining this death defying odor.

I wasn't.

Mission was the first to exit into the hard mud that was the true ground of Taris. I followed her by a few feet all while glancing about the Under City. Shacks were set precariously against the ancient steel walls of the Taris skyscrapers. The people who lived down here were crawling around like rats while staring up at the alien looking up-worlders. I felt rather overdressed in this environment despite the second hand cortosis weave armor. A few skinny children ran past us and each one of them stopped to gawk. I turned my head, enough for me to notice a few short and pale beggars making their way towards us

"Hey, you used our elevator!"

We stopped. Carth caught up to us and was on-guard after spotting the newcomers.

One of the beggar's friends pointed crudely at us.

"Yeah, and you have to pay to use our elevator."

"We don't exactly have the credits, little guy," I said.

"Liar! You up-worlders always have credits."

The one time I tell the truth about my finances and I'm shot down. This must be fate's true revenge.

Carth, fortunately, had been smart enough to bring credit slips with him. Should I thank him for his quick thinking or despise him for being better prepared? The beggars took the credits greedily. Mission glared at the commander.

"You shouldn't have done that..." she muttered.

Carth tilted his head. "Why not?"

"People remember down here."

Even though I hadn't been the one to give those beggars credits, I shivered. These people looked desperate...and hungry. I haven't seen any planet like this before—and I've seen planets. These people were in such a destitute state that they were at a civilized level way below the discovery of the hyperdrive. Which is to say, ancient. As we tread through the village, more and more people gathered around us. My spine shivered again when I saw the hunger and fear in their eyes. These people would do anything to survive. Anything.

A woman bumped into me. Before I could apologize, she tried to claw me apart.

"Murderer!" she shouted. "Dictator! Tyrant!"

I had no choice but to throw the weak person off of me and onto the ground. This only incited the people around us. Mission paled and Carth pushed hard onto my back to go faster as the villagers raged, each of them attempting to claw at us.

"You left us to the rakghouls!"

"Up-worlder scum!"

"Leave us alone!"

My mind was in such a tumble that I hadn't even realized when the people had thrown us out into the wastelands through an iron gate. I glared back at the unwelcoming Under City dwellers.

"What was that?" I shouted at Mission. "Who were those—?"

"They were banished here a long time ago. Prisoners of a long forgotten war. They've been oppressed for so long that some don't even know what it's like in the sun."

The rest of my words lay dry in my mouth as I stood and dusted myself off. Carth looked a bit more shaken then I was. This Outer Rim planet was crueler than most that I've seen. At least slaves and other lower class people on other worlds got to see the light of day.

The skyscraper trunks stood like frozen statues. An ominous growl echoed through the cold bleak desert. My foggy breath came from my lips in small puffs. The cold made me shiver. And Mission actually looked scared for once.

"We have to watch out for rakghouls," she said. "If you see one, run. Their bites will turn you into one of those monsters."

"Great. Just what we needed—more danger," I muttered.

We began to walk. Each of our steps created small indents in the soft ground. When I used to smuggle in Taris years ago, I learned that the planet used to be lush and green with life before they found rich resources upon its surface. Of course, there were other fairy tales that people liked to tell about this planet. But I didn't believe in _stories_.

And now...

"It's kind of...quiet," Carth whispered.

"Not anymore, is it?" I whispered back.

"Shh."

Mission stopped us when we saw fragmented parts in the distance. Faint smoke trailed out like wisps from what appeared to be a crash of some sort. Holding up a hand, she pointed to the ground. Landmines. Whoever was here first didn't want anyone coming back.

Carth gripped his blaster. "This is an escape pod..."

I took another look at the machine parts and recognized the broken Republic insignia immediately. Maybe it was Bastila's escape pod? Of course, she wasn't there anymore.

Mission turned from the crash. "We have to keep moving. The entrance is not far."

_You cannot win, Revan._

Something tugged at me towards the wreckage. A voice? A call? No, it was like some invisible force whispering to me from inside the pod. That's why when Mission continued past the parts, I swung to the left.

Carth waved at me.

"Where are you going?"

I avoided the frag mines camouflaged within broken engines and hugged the edge of the large escape pod until I got to the blasted broken door. Carefully checking for mines, I climbed in through the side hatch. The pit stank of smoke and burnt gases as I peered around. What was I looking for? Bastila wasn't here. What was the point of this expedition? I was wasting precious time—

A lone device. It looked a lot like Bastila's lightsaber from that foggy dream. _You cannot win, Revan._ Yes, that had been her voice. And there was her lightsaber, hidden underneath the escape pod seat like a mistreated toy. Before I could try to figure out whether that was or wasn't a dream, a thought caused me to smirk. What kind of klutz was this Bastila? She tripped _and_ misplace important items like lightsabers. How was the fate of the galaxy in her hands?

After stretching my body to the limit, I grabbed the lightsaber and climbed out. My hair frizzed up from being inside that humid broken spacecraft. Both Carth and Mission gave me strange looks as I waved the metal tube around.

"Looks like someone has forgotten something."

The commander grimaced as I waved it again.

"Be careful with that!" Carth shouted. "You could accidentally stab me or yourself with it."

I pursed my lips together then placed the lightsaber carefully into my pack. Did he really think I was that irresponsible? I wasn't going to go on a rampage with a Jedi's weapon. Before I could argue, Mission stomped towards where we were previously heading.

"Come on, slowpokes!"

* * *

Our journey within the underbelly of the Upper City came to a halt when Mission noticed something past the ancient wall. Both Carth and I prepared our blasters as we peered past that wall with anticipated trigger fingers. We must have been walking down there for about an hour before we ran into the Sith patrol.

Which is to say...a very much dead Sith patrol.

White pale creatures encircled their corpses and made gross, grumbling sounds. As if they were...digesting. Mission and Carth grimaced as they saw what laid beyond the metal roots.

"Are you kidding me?" Carth said.

I laughed darkly at that statement.

The soldier frowned. "Do you think this is funny?"

Mission came between us like a bouncer breaking up a drunken dispute. Her expression was frantic. Now she was afraid? Amazing...

"Listen, we can't take on all of those rakghouls at once. The entrance to the sewers are just beside them. If we go nice and easy then we can do it. I've done it before with Zaalbar so it's possible."

"Yeah, you did it before. But I highly doubt Carth is as quiet as that Wookiee. He whispers like a bantha in heat."

Carth narrowed his eyes.

"Hey! I can be stealthy."

_Sure._

With a small nod, Mission crawled close to the ground, using the darker shadows of the skyscraper as cover from the rakghouls. I wondered how she was able to avoid these creatures when they could just as well smell us. The shredded Sith patrol didn't bode well for us. I hoped that they weren't some premonition about our own fate.

We hugged the wall as if a gigantic chasm laid below our feet. The pale creatures were scrunched over the armored Sith. The disgusting sounds of their digestion shook me to the core. Kriff...they _were_ eating them. My skin grew cold and my hands shook as I stepped over metal gravel. Carth's breath could be heard a mile away. _L_ _ay off the calories you fat_ _Gamorrean_.

He could have been a little bit more careful with his footing too, because if he tripped—

Carth cursed as he tripped over a machine part and went tumbling to the ground.

I _had_ to jinx it.

We couldn't stay angry at him for long. Five pale heads peered up at us with dark red teeth and eyes. There was a split second of silence—a credit could have been dropped and heard light-years away. Mission breathed loudly behind us which was amazing because she was more silent than I was.

It was too late to hide now, wasn't it?

Why had I agreed to do this again?

The quiet air was broken when I raised my blaster and fired off a precise shot,. That shot hit one of the monsters square in its pale skull. The four remaining beasts danced around Mission's blaster fire and Carth began shooting from the ground. Mission was able to get in a few hits on one of the rakghoul's torso, but it kept on running towards us like it had only been pinched. Had I been lucky with that first shot?

I fired off a few more rounds and I was able to take another down. Because they were starting to close in. I took a few steps back as they grew closer and Mission followed my lead. Carth, however, was struggling to get up from the ground.

"Carth! Get up you old fart!" I shouted, aiming blindly at the rakghouls as I ran back towards the wall. He hadn't heard me as he shot with one of his blasters at the three remaining beasts. Seeing no choice, I tugged the pin out of the frag grenade and chucked it towards the rushing animals. I wasn't sure if Carth would be too close. If he was, the cortosis weave in his armor should be enough to protect him.

The resounding smoke and angry coughing blasted through the rakghouls like Deralian butter. Crossing my fingers, I stared off, squinting past the dark smoke created by the accursed sediment of Taris.

There were shouts of surprise and I raised my blaster again only to jump when red laser light pierced the grenade smoke. A pale figure fell and red liquid spread from where I had thought Carth to be.

I almost felt my heart stop.

Wait, I _cared_ about this soldier's safety? That's surprising.

I ran towards the commander's position.

"Carth!"

I was close enough to observe the damage. The pale skinny rakghoul had tackled the soldier. Two of them had been torn to pieces by the grenade yet, _somehow_ , the third one had survived enough to claw at Carth. After that attack, the commander had been able to shoot its brains out. I shoved the rakghoul body off of him and peered down. His face was bloody along with his shoulder which had been pierced with two puncture marks. He was still awake... _somehow._

He coughed. "Thanks a lot you idiot. You could've blown my _fucking_ head off."

I narrowed my eyes. Mission came up to us then covered her mouth in horror. He looked bad but the soldier probably had worse—Mandalorian War veteran and all. Carth sat up carefully...however something worse than gravity pulled him back to earth. I pursed my lips as I took a more careful look at his shoulder wound. Pus? What...did this rakghoul have rabies or something?

Oh no.

What had Mission said? _Their bites will turn you into one of those monsters._

Mission's hand remained on her face like she was trying to hold back a scream.

Carth was dying.


	6. Taris: For a Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Fixed some characterization issues with Wes and Carth's motives to help Zaalbar. Scene mostly the same except I felt that their positions on the matter would actually be reversed.

We situated Carth to sit beside the skyscraper wall while we still kept an eye out on the desolate Under City desert. At any moment, the pilot could turn into a shadow of himself and rip us to shreds. The young Twi'lek was shaking her head. The light had left her eyes along with any sort of hope that this situation could get better.

"I-I'm sorry. This is all my fault—"

"It's not your fault, damn it."

I buried my head into both of my hands. This pilot might have been an annoying prick but he was right about one thing. I couldn't do this alone. We could barely do this together. That and he still had a race to win!

And...the guy was starting to grow on me. Who was I going to snark at?

Carth, who had been motionless before, stirred. He looked like he wanted to berate me about something but the words never came when the back of his head hit the hard steel again

That's when I began to pace. How else was I going to get us out of this situation besides walking myself into a deeper hole?

"Is there a cure?" I asked the Twi'lek who was trying to follow my rushing figure.

She rubbed her hands. "Y-Yes but...only doctors in the Upper City have it. And the Sith. I doubt that we could—"

" _Anyone else_?"

I wasn't trying to scare the kid, really, but she needed to talk before the rakghoul poison could settle.

Mission shook her head. "I-I don't think so. No."

 _Kriff_.

As I paced, I occasionally glanced towards Carth's face which was growing paler by the minute. He wouldn't last the hour in that condition and there went my chances of getting out of here. As I thought of the Sith who would eventually come to slaughter me, my gaze hovered towards the mutilated corpses of the squad. I stopped then squinted at one of the bodies.

A syringe?

My feet stomped across the dry soil as I half-ran towards the dead Sith troops without checking for landmines. Fortunately, my oversight wasn't punished by my immediate death as I bent over a rotting corpse. The reeking smell was not as disturbing as it should have been.

A syringe laid within the hands of the dead Sith who had been left alone by the creatures. A metal bottle was buried within the mud and I took it up within my gloved hand.

_Rakghoul serum._

I couldn't believe what I was reading. _R_ _akghoul serum_? As in _cure_? It seemed that fate, once again, gave me a sign that I was in her favor. I wanted to wave the bottle around in triumph, however, if I did that the last remaining substance would spill out.

Instead, I ran over to Mission. Taking the syringe in a tender hand, I gave Carth a smirk and he raised his eyebrows in return.

"I hope you don't mind dirty Sith needles."

Now, I wasn't a medical doctor, but what was I supposed to do? I guessed around the area where a vein might be and decided to use it close to his injured shoulder. He didn't argue or question what I was doing when all of the green substance was inserted into his blood stream. I exhaled a held breath then smiled at Mission.

"That was _too_ close..."

Carth moved to sit up more then winced in pain as he stretched his shoulder. His face appeared much less pale than before and he didn't look like he was on the brink of suffocation.

"Glad you...care so much about me..."

Was my thank you.

It was my turn to glare at him. Mission coughed.

"Guys...we don't have much time. Zaalbar—"

I shook my head. "Do you think he can go anywhere without a heavy dose of kolto and a nap first?"

Mission didn't respond—probably because I already knew the answer. So, I pushed onto my feet and began to search for Carth's blasters. Spotting them across the field, I scooped them up and placed them at the soldier's side.

When I stood once again, Carth was looking at Mission. "Sorry kid...but I don't think we'll be able to help."

I paused.

"What?"

"You heard me, soldier." Carth hissed. "Our priority has always been to rescue Bastila. I know that this kid wants her Wookiee back, but at this rate it's starting to cost us the mission. If it hasn't already."

I rubbed my face. Carth and his stupid mission. Was that all he cared about? But deep down I knew that, in a sick, twisted way, he was right. To escape Taris, we needed the help of a Jedi. Not some Wookiee we barely knew. And a soldier, like Carth, would have listened to that train of logic.

But I wasn't a soldier, was I?

Mission deflated when she realized that we wouldn't be able to help her. "That's alright, I guess. I mean...I was lucky to get even your help in the first place. And if you're injured then I can't make you—"

"Oh, so I'm injured now," I interrupted.

Will my mouth shut up already? I was getting myself into something that I didn't want to get myself into. I could already tell. Yet, when Mission looked so...deflated like that. The guilt was more than I could bear. I always kept my promises. Always. And I wasn't going to start breaking them now.

Mission glanced up at me with those radiant eyes. Just seeing her look up at me like that gave me the extra confidence to be completely and utterly stupid. Carth raised a brow and looked as if he was about to protest. But I think I'd rendered him speechless. That or the drugs kicked in.

"You're going to rescue Big Z?" she asked.

The words spilled out without my mind processing.

"I'm already here, aren't I? Why waste the journey?"

Mission seemed to brighten, however, she looked worried too.

"By yourself?"

 _Erm_. "Wait...you're not coming with me?"

"I have to help Carth, right?"

I narrowed my eyes. He could probably walk back himself...past that mob of underworlders. And more rakghouls. And Sith, probably. Yeah, I doubt that even I could limp back there with my body being whole. So, I was going to venture into the unknown without a guide? It was a terrible idea and even though I was at times stupid, I wasn't _that_ stupid.

Actually, no, I am that stupid.

"Fine, but after this is over, you owe me, kid. Credits. 5,000."

I might as well get that zero off my back if I was going to do something this insane.

Mission pursed her lips. "Hmm...1,000."

 _Wait_. "Do you really have room to negotiate here?"

"Well, yes, cause, you see, I don't have 5,000 credits."

Ah.

I sighed. Loud enough so that hopefully they all could hear my woes. I yanked one of Onasi's blasters and took out the full charge in order to use it as a replacement for my own blaster. Checking the three grenades that I had left and the shield that I doubt could repel the weakest of turret fire, I stood from the commander's side and faced the young Twi'lek.

Mission's expression then turned wishy-washy. "I...there's one thing I forgot to mention..."

I threw my hands. "What is it now?"

"Well, err, the Vulkars use a rancor to defend the back entrance. But you could probably sneak past it!" she said, hurriedly adding that last bit.

Even a million credits wouldn't be worth going against a _rancor_. Never mind _1,000_.

"A _rancor?_ You want me to sneak past a _rancor?"_ My eyes were wild and my voice rose. "How the _fuck_ did they get a rancor down there?"

Yeah, I could have been asking better questions like "Why didn't you tell us this before?" or "How am I supposed to do that?" but I was too bewildered and tongue twisted about what I just got myself into. Was this Wookiee even worth the risk? The credits wouldn't be worth it. Not even 1,000 credits. Wookiee were worth more than that in the black markets. And if I was saving a Wookiee then I wanted to be paid a Wookiee price. 

Mission saw my angered face and shrank back, her lekku sliding off her shoulders.

"I don't know...I think they raised it from birth. An egg from a Hutt I think? The thing's older than me so I have no idea."

Oh, well I feel _so_ much better now that I know the rancor is ancient. I can just take a nice easy stroll right past it, right? Ha, a walk in a Coruscant park! But guess what...you can walk off the _fucking_ edge of a Coruscant park and _die_.

Why didn't I just jump off the top and save myself the trouble?

"Kid...you really want me to do this?" I asked, my eyebrows scrunched up.

"Not unless you don't want to... but once you're past the rancor, it's easy to sneak around the base. I've done it before trying to prove myself to Gadon and Zaedra. They just called me a stupid kid though. If a stupid kid can do it, you can."

She was resorting to self-deprecating herself. And it was working. 

Before I left, Mission shoved a datachip into my hands. The chip would bring the Vulkars' shields down—the one that sealed a _rancor_ of all things. She patted my shoulder.

"Good luck, Wessy," she muttered.

I didn't even have the heart to tell her off about that stupid nickname. She looked that worried about me. I looked towards Carth who was trying to stand but failed miserably—the claw marks in his legs the major cause. He was looking at me in a whole new light though. Instead, of his usual glares, his face had become horrified. Shocked—almost.

"Did-Did you even hear what I said?" he stuttered. 

"Yup."

"That...that was an order."

I waved my hands. "Does it look like I give a kriff about orders?"

Carth sank back while rubbing his brow. "You're a really strange soldier, Gale," he said.

"And you're a really annoying _commander_ , Onasi."

Mock saluting—his glare reappearing—I slapped the ancient doors open as dramatically as possible.

* * *

The sewers stretched beneath all of Taris' skyscrapers way beyond the small section I was exploring. Too many things must have died down there. A whole _planet_ must have died down there. I was still holding my nose with one hand and a blaster in another, glancing past the Gamorrean infested undergrowth. I avoided most of the pig-like eyes by walkin beneath the paths. The water had this dark looking substance swimming around but it masked my scent from the enemies above. I could swear a dark liquid oozed from one of the piggy's _asses_ and I almost threw up yesterday's dinner.

Actually, she owed me two...no _three_ Wookiee prices for this. I hadn't even gotten to the rancor yet.

I stopped when the path became a dead end. The stairs to my right led up to the ancient metal paths with the green disgusting pigs. The bottom of my dark pants were dyed black when I stepped out of the sewer. The water dripped abnormally slow down my legs. I cringed. If my legs were not an important part of my body, I would have cut them off then and there.

Peering up at the level of the metal path, I noticed that the hall was not filled with crap imploders. When I arrived at the top of the stairs, the ancient doors slid open in their slow fashion behind me. I raised my blaster up to the Gamorrean or rakghoul that might have been beyond the door.

A gruff scarred face was what greeted me along with a few other shaking and bleeding men behind him. That gray-haired yet battle hardened old man raised an eyebrow when he spotted me. His men raised their blaster rifles and grenades at the ready.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A rat in the sewers." The gruff man tilted his head when I still held my blaster up in his direction. He raised his own large weapon in response. "Who are you, and why are you down here?"

I shrugged. "I'm a Hutt in disguise who wants to take over the galaxy. Actually, you know what, why not start here? This sewer could become a great vacation spot, you know."

There was silence. Then, he laughed while raising his weapon higher. His troops followed his lead.

"You don't look like a Hutt."

I tightened my grip on my blaster.

"Really? That's good. I was trying so hard _not_ to. Disguise and all—"

"Enough jokes. Tell me who you are and why you're here or you're not leaving this 'vacation spot' alive."

My gaze drifted to the man's shoulder and my heart skipped with fear. Clan tattoos. He was a Mandalorian. One of those brutes. My smile faded from my face. In the years after the Mandalorian Wars, these bandits would raid any random machine that floated or even _existed_ in space. I had terrible experiences with these Mandos...and it would take a lot of my energy to resist killing this one in retaliation.

But I was up against ten to one odds. Those grenades did not look pleasant either. So, I placed my blaster at my feet then raised my hands.

"Wes...I'm Wes Gale. I'm looking for the Vulkars' base."

The Mando raised a dark eyebrow above his sick looking eye then lowered his heavy weapon.

"Then we have something in common, Wes Gale." Nodding to his men, they lowered their rifles. "That slimy bastard Brejik has too much debt on his head and we've come to...negotiate peace terms. The Exchange isn't really an organization you should mess with."

His last statement completely lacked enthusiasm which told me that even he didn't believe in that statement. And the Exchange? I briefly transported Tarisian ale and spices for the Exchange years ago. I never saw Davik Kang personally nor did I want to. Dealing with the Exchange was a pain in the arse...even though they were usually the third party in most of the smuggling contracts I took. I loathed the organization that took most of my cut despite having to do _most_ of the work.

The Mando smirked. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" My smile was an answer enough. "We could work together you know. We found a shield that we've been having trouble hacking into. You wouldn't happen to know of another way around?"

I began to weigh my options. They knew where the shield was yet I did not. And if I was going against a rancor...why not have eleven more bodies to distract it away from me? Eleven _Exchange_ bodies. Perfect rancor fodder.

I nodded my head. "I know another way around. In fact, I know the way forward. I can open that shield for you if you showed me where."

The Mando nodded. He twisted around to address the ten Exchange workers. They all looked as if they were going to argue about "trusting" me before he shouted for them all to turn back and move out. I followed and made sure to grab my pistol again.

The hallways echoed with the heavy boots of the ten Exchange lackeys. Fortunately, I couldn't hear any more snorting from the Gamorreans. The pigs avoided this side of the path for some reason. Which meant we were getting close to the rancor.

"The name's Canderous Ordo by the way," the Mando said, interrupting my thoughts. He peered towards the men who were leading the way. "These other worthless pieces of trash aren't really worth mentioning."

Canderous shuffled close to me with his heavy weapon pointing in my direction. At least this Ordo was less outspoken about not trusting me...because I didn't trust him either.

"What is a Mandalorian doing working for the Exchange anyway?" I asked.

The hall was growing brighter and the twelve pairs of footsteps were creating a mini earthquake below. Canderous glared at me with those dark eyes. His scar became even more prominent underneath the dim lights.

"That's none of your business now, is it?"

Yeah, I wasn't going to provoke a Mando into a fight. Apparently, they were strong enough to go head to head with a Jedi. Because of that—and ignoring my dumb luck for a moment—I would probably die as a result.

After walking down the slimy corridors, passing humming fans and dead rakghouls that were spread around like naked dolls, we finally reached the Vulkars' shield.

"Here you go, pipsqueak."

Canderous slapped a control unit then turned on the generator beside it.

I slipped the chip out of my pocket and slide it in where a datapad would usually go. The ten Exchange guards were giving me suspicious looks as I pressed the enter key on the terminal. A green light flashed from the chip before it glowed purple in confirmation. They probably wondered why I so easily agreed to help them. It did look suspicious...

The shield dissipated and Canderous was the first to step into the new section of the sewers. Not much was different past there, just another long hallway that went down. I took the chip and followed him while his guards continued to watch my back.

"Any reason why you're after the Vulkars?" he asked.

I shrugged as we walked down the hall towards another ancient door.

"My own stupidity." Before Canderous could ask what I meant, I elaborated. "They stole a Wookiee from a kid. I owed her, so I'm on a rescue mission."

"Well...aren't _you_ nice."

I paused before I opened the door.

An arm. Just an arm and nothing else.

I laughed darkly to myself as I bent over it, inspecting the item in its hand. A vial. Another one. But this vial had a white powder. Some unknown substance. Canderous was looking down at it as well. Taking the vial in my hand, I glanced towards the door again.

The rancor was behind here.

Of course, these fools had no idea what we were about to face. The Mando pressed the door switch and walked forward only to jump back like he had been stung. _Funny._.. a Mandalorian full of honor and glory shook like a leaf at the sight.

"In Mandalore's name...what is a _rancor_ doing down here?" he asked. "You knew about this didn't you?"

I shrugged. "It wasn't as if you were going to run away once I told you."

Fortunately, that was a sound argument. The rest of the crew however...were not so happy. The Exchange goons were shaking in their boots. Some even muttered about falling back and forgetting about the mission.

Obviously, the Mandalorian was displeased by their cowardice. "If you pathetic worms were Mandalorians, you wouldn't be asking for retreat. This is an ultimate challenge. Why not take it up?"

Yep, no one except a Mandalorian would be excited about fighting a rancor. I should have known.

"B-But Canderous. I think Davik will understand—"

"Davik wants his credits. Besides that, he understands little else."

That actually sounded pretty insulting. The Mandalorian didn't like his job?

I pursed my lips before peering closer at the vial in my hand. The substance was flaky and poisonous looking. Was this rancor poison? I thought these beasts were resistant to poisons.

Throwing danger to the wind, Canderous strode into the large room with little regard to the rancor in the room. I was hesitant to follow. After all, I was growing unconfident in the crew that the Mandalorian dragged around. This rancor was going to have a feast tonight.

The entire floor was covered in bones and flesh. I tried not to look down at the body parts and displaced heads but I had to make sure not to bring attention to myself from the rancor on the far side of the room. And there it was, chomping on a Twi'lek body like candy. I shivered while the Mandalorian chuckled with glee. These Mandos. Just the smell of battle was enough for them.

We edged slowly and stealthily towards the far side of the room. Perhaps we could sneak past it as it was distracted by its...meal. Unfortunately, the rancor became aware of us when an idiot tripped and fell on top of fresh and ancient bones.

"Kriff..." Canderous simmered. "You kriff'n idiot!"

The brown, four meter tall monster turned to face the twelve of us with eager eyes. It roared—bloody spittle flew in our direction then slapped into a poor man's face. The ten goons shouted in panic. I dove to the ground and drew my blaster. I managed to fire a few rounds as I cursed in tune with the Mandalorian. My attack was foiled by the Exchange dolts, of course, as they fired without regard.

The Mando also let rip a steady stream of shots and the red lines arched into the face of the beast. Rancors, however, were not affected by blaster fire. Only lightsabers and grenades could burn off its armor like skin.

I glanced towards my pack. Bastila's lightsaber. I may not be as effective with it as a Jedi, yet I could poke at it at least. Then we might have a chance. Yet, I wasn't sure if I wanted to reveal I had a lightsaber like that. I wouldn't be surprised if the Mando turned me in to the Sith...

Cursing, the Mandalorian stepped back when the rancor sprinted towards us with its bipedal legs. I tried conserving my blaster fire and retreated with him. Even the fire power of twelve wasn't enough to slow it down.

One of the Exchange guards threw a grenade. The following explosion only spread and burnt the bones underneath the monster's feet. I dove to the side as it stormed past. Sharp bones pricked into my side as the rancor ripped its teeth into one of the Exchange guards. His screams for help hauntingly echoed in the large room and were cut short with a crack.

I held my breath as the monster had its meal. Canderous was still shooting like a maniac while I was trying to make myself scarce. I wasn't going to risk my neck on this.

The rancor sniffed the air. Its yellow eyes turned to stare into my very soul.

Great.

It dashed for me, so I shot up and ran for the door. Except I managed to trip over loose bones. Kriff, slemo, shutta, etcetera. I was going through the whole dictionary of alien curse words as I tried to run away. I think Canderous shouted "coward," but I didn't pay the old gray haired Mando any heed. I wasn't going to be that thing's next meal.

Unfortunately, the rancor was faster. I tripped one last time before it dove at me with its mouth. The thing's breath stank of death and intestines and I almost reeled over in pain just from that. I managed to roll away before the yellow teeth had a chance to impale me. Then, I reached unconsciously for the lightsaber in my pack.

 _The yellow saber. The masked devil._ Those...strange images caused me to fumble and the lightsaber skidded down to the floor of bones.

The rancor eyed me again. More specifically what I held. I glanced down at the vial in my left hand. _Of course_. Not poison, bait.

I threw the glass vial and like a hound it went stampeding towards it. The Exchange goons backed away from the incoming beast. I picked up the saber and felt the smooth grooves. Hopefully, the vial would buy me enough time.

The rancor trampled two more Exchange dolts and roared at Canderous. Pointing the lightsaber up, I switched on the blade. I jumped when the bottom of the saber lit with a golden beam. Hitting it again, a second blade hissed awake. These Jedi were crafty. I'm sure Bastila wouldn't mind if I used her lightsaber to save my own life, right?

My hand shook as I held the hot blades as far away from my face as possible. The Exchange goons and Canderous were all giving me funny looks. My light show distracted them enough for the rancor to devour another. Only six of them remained now.

"What the hell? You a Jedi?" I heard the Mandalorian call out.

If only. That sort of power would have been useful right now. Since I was so far away, and I did not want to get close, I held back the saber and aimed to throw the thing. Foolish, perhaps, yet there was no other way without possibly getting mauled.

Before the rancor could maul another, I threw it. Wide. At first, I thought I had missed by a mile, yet, as if the thing was _alive,_ the lightsaber twisted in the air and collided with the rancor. I was pleased to hear the burning sound and smell from the beast as smoke trailed up from its skin armor. It roared and tried to swipe the lightsaber out of its back. I must have pierced a major organ since it collapsed to the ground. Dust covered the scene and the rancor's final resting place.

I leaned onto my knees then then smiled in relief. This dumb luck of mine...

Canderous was looking at me with different eyes. His injured goons gaped.

The body of the rancor growled once and my smile faded. The rancor tried standing, however, Canderous shot another round at the beast. Too weak to fight back, it sank back to the bloody floor. The lightsaber hissed closed then clanged against the concreate ground. I glared at the object. That thing had a life of its own.

I had to pick it back up though. I couldn't just leave it for one of these idiots to take.

After collecting the Jedi's weapon, the Mandalorian approached. "You _are_ a Jedi, aren't you?"

Oh no.

"Uh, sorry to disappoint...but I'm babysitting this lightsaber for someone. If I was a Jedi, I would be the worst one out there."

He didn't look convinced and neither did his team.

"Whatever you say..."

The body of the rancor no longer stirred. Fortunately. The many bodies of the Exchange dolts melded with the rest of the death pile. Past them on the far side of the large death filled room, the doors hissed open. Without another word, shouting was heard past the doors. I raised my blaster again.

"What other bastards are going to show up now?" the Mandalorian muttered.

Blaster fire and smoke appeared past the half opened door. I ducked beside a hill of bones. Two from the Exchange group fell from the red bolts. I was about to shoot these new intruders down but before I could even raise my blaster, Canderous' heavy weapon pummeled blasts onto the Rodians' bodies.

"Fall back," he yelled to his men. "We've lost too many."

Really? A Mandalorian giving up? I was about to invade the Vulkars' base on my own an hour ago. Ordo caught my bewildered look. He shook his head—teeth bared.

"This isn't a show of cowardice, pipsqueak. Davik intended for us to take over the base with fifteen men and now I'm down to four worthless boys. I'm not stupid and I assume you're not either." He picked up his rifle and threw it over his shoulder then addressed him men again. "No arguments. Move. We'll come back with reinforcements now that the rancor's dead."

"I still have to go in there you know..." I muttered.

The Mando stopped and looked down at me with amusement.

He laughed once. "Well then, you really are stupid, kid. Hope Brejik treats you well."

I really hated it when someone calls me stupid. Even if it was true. Before I could even snap back at the Mando, he was out of earshot.

I also hated not having the last word. Kriff.

* * *

Shifting in the blue and black armor that I took from the Rodians Canderous killed, I paced nonchalantly down the hall and nodded to a passing guard.

I hated using the same trick twice but it was the oldest one in the book.

The Vulkars' base was colder than the Hidden Beks'. I considered trying to search for Bastila as well while I was there, yet it became apparent that this place wasn't the _actual_ main hangout of the Vulkars. Barely any gang member's roamed the hallways and no one batted an eyelid as I searched the rooms for...something. The slave quarters, perhaps?

"Why aren't you at a post?" a guard asked.

I paused in my stride, giving him a look.

"You didn't hear? The rancor was killed."

I continued to walk with a purpose while the dazed gangster shouted into a comm. It wouldn't take them very long to realize that someone broke in as well. I rapidly increased my pace.

Crude laughter echoed down the hall. I peered into the room with the source of the ruckus. The Vulkars sat around tables in the middle of breakfast. A human slave in chains served them drinks. Great. I needed to walk through there in order to get to the elevators. Holstering my blaster, I walked in like I had just returned after a long day of murdering.

Fortunately, their eyes were not on me but on the serving girl.

"You're a pretty bitch, aren't yah? Your father isn't here to save you now."

She shuddered as she placed the drinks down. A green hand grabbed her wrist and her figure grew even smaller.

"Please..."

I passed them when the alien pulled her closer. That disgusting creature gave the poor girl a hungry stare.

"Begging...now that's what I like to hear," he said, licking his Twi'lek lips.

Another Twi'lek beside him laughed.

"You know...we need to blow off some steam after shining Redros' swoop for the sixth time. This little dove should give us a good time, right?"

My sight grew red and I froze. The girl was protesting when the Twi'lek assaulted her. In a fluid motion, I withdrew my weapon and shot a bolt into the green alien's head. I'm not even sure they knew what was going on, but eventually the other Twi'lek and his Rodian friends were gawking at me. Before anyone else could draw their weapons, I took another shot at the dark Twi'lek and he fell beside his dead friend.

The girl shrieked and ducked underneath the tipped mess hall table. I followed her lead after blaster fire began to pummel in my direction. The table I used for cover hissed with burns when some of the bolts were strong enough to melt through. I cursed and shot at an aliens' legs. One of the Rodian's screeched as he fell. I finished him as he hit the ground with a dark mark in his neck.

"Slemo!"

The last Twi'lek screeched more profanities in his language. Before I could return to the offensive, a blaster bolt shot out. But not in my direction.

_The girl._

She collapsed beside me. Dead. I tightened my grip on my blaster. How could those monsters do that? She was defenseless! They killed her with spite. If I hadn't been so _stupid._

My blaster ran out of charge so I threw the worthless weapon away then pushed the table forward. Once I felt I was close enough, I rolled out from the cover from the table. I didn't even feel the blaster bolt as it nicked my side—shot from a terrified and shaky hand. Cowards.

Taking my knife, I dug the point into the Twi'leki stomach, turned it, then punched the man with my forehead. The Rodian beside him went to shoot, but his blaster fell out of his hands, gravity pulling it away. I kicked out at the Rodian who slammed against the wall with an alien shout.

"P-Pleas—"

The wounded Twi'lek tried to beg, but I released the knife and grabbed him by the throat. Then, I sensed something. _Danger_. In a millisecond, I pulled the Twi'lek to the right. The Rodian on the ground shot at me...yet the blaster made a permanent hole in the green Twi'lek's face. Killing his own friend.

I glanced around at the massacre, my face paling when I saw the dead body of the slave girl underneath the table. Heat crossed my face when I saw her pale blue eyes staring up at me. The wounded Rodian coughed and tried to get up from the ground. Before he could attack again, I took his blaster then broke his fingers with my boot.

"Why did you do that!" I shouted at him, blaster raised.

He couldn't answer me though. His lungs drowned in blood from a cracked rib. _May as well put him out of his misery._

The place was only silent for a second after the Rodian's death.

A red siren screamed in the corner. Security cameras.

My grip tightened on the blaster. I ran to the elevator when the mess hall doors opened and many Vulkars spilled into the room. The elevator shut with a hiss and I wiped the sweat and blood from my brow. I was now intent on finding the Wookiee alive, no matter how much I protested before.

Otherwise, all of this would have been for nothing.


	7. Taris: The Race

The room was dark. After all, why would the Vulkars spare energy on compact slave pits? I stepped over the dead guard, searching the walls of chains and bodies. There were too many people here...and all of them were giving me the eyes of hope I had seen in Mission before. Was I here to save all of them? Could I even do that after I just tried saving one of them and she died as a result?

I bit my lip as I avoided those pleading eyes. I was only there for one walking carpet...the sad looking humans and Twi'lek broke my cold heart to pieces.

The Wookiee was in the corner, looking down at his chains. Half of an arm laid at his feet and I began to wonder what Zaalbar had done while he was imprisoned.

"Hey..." I began.

The slaves around me pled in their languages and I tried to look away again.

Zaalbar looked up and his eyes shone with hope yet suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

His bindings were tight and shined like it had shields woven into the metal. I took out the key that guard had and unlocked the chains slowly, glancing behind my back.

"Rescuing you."

The chains fell to the ground and the Wookiee rubbed his fur wrists. I glanced around the prison, holding up my blaster, ready to shoot the next goon that decided to join us.

"Rescue me?" the Wookiee asked. "Why? And where is Mission? If she's been hurt—"

"She's _fine_. But we have to hurry. I haven't exactly been watching my back—"

"You!"

I shot blindly towards the opened doors. It would have hit too if the Twi'lek hadn't ducked. I took a few steps backwards and ran into Zaalbar as I tried to find cover after the Vulkars discovered my location.

I had been careful the entire trip up. No one was looking in the slave pens for their intruders. Why would they when they stored all their credits somewhere else? Of course...there was still the issue concerning _escaping_ this "base."

I glanced towards the weaponless Wookiee and cursed after we were shot at again.

And then, a dark thought...

_If you release the slaves, then they could distract those Vulkars from you and the Wookiee. They want to be free. Why not give them the opportunity?_

My face contorted in horror at that thought of that...strangely methodical plan. The slaves could die...but, it was something. And they could also be free if they survived. Quickly, I threw the keys to the slaves. They shouted with joy and began to unlock each other. The blaster bolts brought me back to the reality of combat. I shot back at them, hitting the Twi'lek arm. He shouted and I smirked...but three more bolts came from beyond the door.

"The cargo is escaping!"

The freed slaves began to charge at the Vulkars and a few were hit in the crossfire.

"Shit," I muttered, taking another charger from my pack and reloading. These damn Vulkars...they will rue the day they made me an enemy.

I felt a heavy claw on my shoulder and looked up to the Wookiee. He growled a war cry and ran out of cover. Was this carpet insane? They were still shooting—!

Fortunately, I didn't have to worry for long. Zaalbar grabbed a metal pipe then tore it from the wall. The Vulkars were reloading when the wild beast struck like that rancor, shouts of pure terror pierced the air of the large room. The slaves trampled past until, eventually, the room had become empty. The screams from both the Vulkars and the slaves called in the distance. When Zaalbar's woolly head poked out like a wack-a-tach, I grinned, shaking my head at the audacious yet quiet beast.

"Warn me before you do something like that, okay? I almost shot your furry ass..."

"You were taking too long."

So, this Zaalbar was crazy _and_ impatient? We had a lot more in common then I thought.

I rubbed the back of my head as I gazed around the empty slave pens. A few dead bodies of those slaves were marked with blaster burns. Had it been worth it?

Zaalbar must have noticed my distraction. "Come on, let's get out of here..."

Sniffling. Some...sensation pulled me towards the corner. I didn't hesitate and walked towards the sound.

The Wookiee called out. "Where are you going? We have to run!"

A young boy who hadn't been passed the keys sat in the corner with wide blue eyes. How could they have left this kid behind? Though...it had probably been for the best that he hadn't been a part of the ensuing action. I found the keys then began to work at the bindings. His young eyes looking up at me with joy. I smiled back at him until I felt a large paw grab my shoulder. "We have to leave. Releasing the slaves as a distraction was...quick thinking. But we don't have much time to waste."

My heart seemed to tug when I heard his words and knew that they were true. But still...I shrugged his paw off of my shoulder and continued to help the boy. I just wanted to save one...just one. His chains fell off of his wrists and I lifted the small boy up and handed him to the Wookiee to carry.

"What are—?"

"We can help this one at least?"

Zaalbar growled a confirmation, though he didn't look happy that he had to carry something.

We entered the hallways once more and towards the sounds of chaos. The beaten bodies of the Vulkars were strewn all along the walls. When the Wookiee caught up with the quiet boy in his hands, he growled in awe at the slaves path of destruction. He then told me to slow down but I was too focused on finding Brejik. And killing him. I will go up to the top level and find that bastard—kill him and all of his Vulkars—then find Bastila. Somehow. Once Brejik died, he wouldn't enslave more of those poor people. Only then.

I was slammed against the wall. My face was red with anger when I looked up at the fur ball. That hurt damn it!

"Where are you going? The elevator's in the other direction!" the Wookiee shouted at me. I struggled in the furball's grip but failed miserably.

"I'm going to kill that bastard Brejik, that's what," I muttered darkly at him.

The Wookiee slammed me down again as if trying to remind me that I couldn't escape.

"And what will that accomplish? There are hundreds of Vulkars in the way. You will die before you could even see his face!"

The boy at his side was staring up at me in fright and just the innocent look on his face made me pause. He probably thought the Wookiee was attacking me.

I growled back at Zaalbar. "Of course I'm not going to see his face...because he's not going to see mine when I stab him in the back."

I was slammed again and the boy suddenly reached out to the Wookiee and tugged at his fur. The words that came out of his mouth were surprisingly foreign...I couldn't place the language that he was speaking. Wait...there was a language that even I didn't know? Even though I didn't understand what he was saying, he looked frantic...tugging at the Wookiee, tears spilling out of his eyes.

I relaxed when Zaalbar finally released me. His dark eyes stared down at the little one. I twisted around again towards the red engulfed hall. Now was my chance!

Without another word, I found that my feet were being lifted off the ground.

"What the—put me down!" I shouted, squirming. Damn...this Wookiee was strong. I certainly didn't weigh the same as that kid.

"I will not let you kill yourself. If I am to swear a life debt onto you then I don't want you dying in the mean time."

Wait... _life debt_? As in...a walking carpet following my heels for the rest of my days? I paused in my struggles to look behind my shoulder at the Wookiee. His bear-like face scrunched up in pain. When we were before the elevators, I was thrown onto the ground and I groaning in pain as the floor connected with my knees. Kriff...this Wookiee had a habit of not giving out warnings.

I stood and rubbed my knees.

"Life debt? Are you—?" The boy ran up and grabbed my legs. I hissed when he hit my injured knees. "...serious?"

The Wookiee wasn't able to answer me when a few red beams of light chased after us. I cursed, pushing the boy beyond the corner, the fur ball following us behind the cover. I forgot all about Brejik and began worrying about this foreign boy's safety. I couldn't let him die, not like that girl. I would only feel more guilty about everything.

The boy was sniffing as I shot towards the Vulkars who had just come out of an elevator. _An elevator_. That was our ticket out of here.

I hit a rodian in the groin and he fell to the Wookiee's blaster rifle—one that he probably took from a dead guard. The rest of the gang members only seemed to get angry at their friend being shot. A grenade was sent flying from one of their hands. I turned on my shield, jumping over the boy, and shouted towards Zaalbar to duck.

The blast was blindingly. I was so dazed that I probably looked drunk as I tried glancing amidst the white fog. Something tugged at my arm. A language I didn't understand shouting at me. I was still shooting though. I can't just rely on my sense of sight. I have to use...my other senses to defend myself, including this boy now. The hallway's contrast suddenly darkened and I swerved my head around only to be tackled from beyond the mists.

I grunted as a knife descended down towards me, I grabbed the Twi'lek arm and blinked a few times. The young boy was shouting at me, yet I couldn't really do anything about him since I was going to be slaughtered by this bloodthirsty Vulkar.

He laughed. "You're not a Bek, that's for sure," he said lowly.

I saw red streaks above me, I twisted the Twi'lek wrist away from my face. The green alien was laughing at me still, the knife descending. My strength was starting to falter and I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold back this Vulkar for long...

However, those laughs turned to screams when the weight above me flew to the side and into the wall. A furry leg replaced the Twi'lek and I grinned painfully as I gave the Wookiee a relieved look.

The green alien coughed out blood when I tackled him myself, placing the cold barrel of my blaster to his face. A single shot and he grew still, eyes blank with death. I inhaled before getting up onto my feet. That flash grenade seemed to have cleared my head of stupidity. We needed to get out of here.

The poor slave boy was scrunched up into a ball and I had to lift him up like a doll in order to get him motivated again. He clung to me like a little tach. I really wanted to hand him over to the Wookiee again but he didn't seem to be wanting to let go. Kriff, I wasn't his damn mother. If Carth saw this...

The Wookiee was already inside the elevator, messing with the control panel. When I entered, the doors hissed closed. He used a Wookiee word that I didn't understand so I tilted my head.

"A password," he muttered. "These Vulkars..."

"Then just hack it," I said, slapping the elevator as it tried to open. I could hear shouting down the hall and my clothes were gradually get wet with salt tears. The Wookiee saw my humorless look and shook his head, canceling the Vulkars request to get inside the elevator. Then, he pushed randomly at the screen—hopefully hacking into the system. Eventually, the elevator began to move. I sighed in relief as we finally escaped that hellhole.

The boy that clung onto me tightly looked down onto the floor sadly yet calmly, probably hearing my dropped heart rate.

I had saved someone. Two maybe more if some of the slaves managed to escape. The boy slackened and I dropped him to the ground, his naïve eyes looking up to me.

Yet...I didn't have the courage to look down.

* * *

"Big Z!" the blue Twi'lek shouted, tackling the Wookiee with a fierce hug.

When we entered the Bek base, we were directed to the med bay where Mission was looking after the commander. Apparently, his wounds had been enough to warrant the rare dip inside a kolto tank. Of course...not enough words would be enough to thank the Hidden Bek leader for giving Carth that expensive treatment.

"Aw, who's this little guy?" Mission asked, jumping from the large furry wall to the scared little boy who held onto my leg too tightly. My circulation was starting to stop, a tingling sensation vibrating in my thigh. I grunted, grabbing the boy's arms and pulling them off my leg before I needed serious treatment myself.

"I don't really know his name, but we found him in the Vulkar base. He was..."

My sad eyes looked down to him yet his round eyes were giving Mission a curious look. I looked away as Mission bent down low to the kid's height. I didn't want to even mention that horror of a slave pen to the young Twi'lek...but apparently the lack of my words was enough.

She frowned. "Oh...well don't worry! You're safe with the Hidden Beks!"

Mission jumped up, all perky again. She really wanted to cheer up this little boy, didn't she? I stiffened when I a large force grab ahold of me. The blue Twi'lek was hugging me and even though she was probably half my mass was beginning to suffocate me. My face tightened.

"Thank you so much, Wessy! I thought... _well_...I _knew_ you were a softy on the inside!" I glared down at her and she released me with a huff. "Well, _fine_ Mister Serious-Face, I won't hug you. You're worse than the old geezer..."

My mouth twisted in humor. "You mean Carth?"

Mission rolled her eyes as she walked forward, being trailed by the large Wookiee. The little boy grabbed my pant leg again and I narrowed my eyes at his clingy nature. Was I really that motherly looking to this little kid? I doubted that my face appeared kind or nurturing...

Carth laid on one of the few med bay cots and watched us with that dull expression on his face as we entered. The smell of salty kolto hit my nose like strong alcohol. The commander's arm was in a sling and his face scratched up yet he somehow looked better than when I last left him.

"I thought you wouldn't come back," he said, sitting up.

"Have a little faith in me, _commander_ ," I said. "Despite the mounting odds I faced, I'm not that incapable."

"No, I thought you were going to run off. You didn't look...happy about the prospects."

I crossing my arms.

"Well...I _didn't_. Will that get you off of my back now?"

He laid in his bed, looking up to Mission who was smirking at the pilot. I narrowed my eyes at the strange companionship they were showing. Before, I was worried that the Twi'lek would rip Carth's throat out if I left them alone together, but it seemed as if they were beginning to get along.

The boy muttered something in his language and I looked down at him. The Republic soldier finally realized there was someone below his bed.

"Who—?"

"From the Vulkar base. I don't want to talk about it."

Zaalbar growled a sad phrase towards the boy. Carth nodded a few times, appearing as if he didn't want to get too into the nitty-gritty details of my exploits within the base. I certainly didn't feel comfortable giving those details out.

Suddenly, Carth sat up and his expression dropped. "The race..."

I sighed. That was going to start in a few hours. When we first walked in, swoops of all sizes were being towed out and their riders were giving us nervous looks. Without winning that race, we wouldn't stand a chance of getting the Jedi back.

Which meant... I did not like the look the soldier was giving me. No. Not in any hell.

"You have to race, Wes," he said, those unwanted words coming out of his mouth. "Do you think I can in this condition? I just...I might not have trusted you with this before, but I do now. You are the only hope we have of getting Bastila back. And I mean it."

Only hope. That sounded familiar. Wasn't that what Bastila was to the Republic? And now _I_ was the only hope the galaxy had?

That was a lot of pressure to put on one man's shoulders, not to mention the Jedi's. Did this soldier even know what he was saying? And the Sith...did he mean for me to fight those bastards back too? How could I even do that? I was only one man—a beaten down _smuggler_ in fact.

Damn it.

My face grew red and I looked between the two angrily, the boy shook as if he could sense my annoyance. I pointed at the commander, my mouth half opened before I turned around, closing it. What was I supposed to say? Okay, I'll go out there and get myself killed! Sure!

The state of those slaves came back to me and the anger I felt to kill Brejik returned.

I stormed out of the med bay without another word to Carth. The boy released my leg yet followed close behind like a small shadow. Mission followed me as well. The Wookiee trailed farther away. The blue Twi'lek was a quick one though. Her hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

Everyone always seemed so concerned about where I was going. What if I just wanted to be left alone?

I twisted around and tried to calm my anger as I responded.

"I'm going to find that ticking time bomb of a swoop. Now, if you don't know where it is...then I'll be on my way." I turned around, pausing to throw my face around to the Twi'lek again. "And you still owe me 1,000 credits."

* * *

The Lower City Arena consisted of old speeder roads and deck chairs all lined up on ancient bleachers. Those seats were starting to fill up and I was only just now beginning to feel the pressure. Zax, a hutt that ruled over the Lower City, laughed at me when I said that I was going to race for the Beks.

"You do know that I have overwhelming bets placed for the Vulkars—specifically Redros—on winning this race, right?" he spoke in his disgusting language. "You sure you don't want to change sides?"

I grinned. "I'm sure you tell that to everyone, Hutt. And believe me, I already feel the overwhelming odds. You don't have to tell me again."

The Hutt narrowed his yellow crusted eyes and I retreated before he could spit at me. I couldn't stand being close to that filthy thing.

Stomping towards the garages, I spotted over the crowds of people Vulkar uniforms and a tall shielded cage. I frowned as I casually walked in that direction, fitting my hands inside my pant pockets. I was shoved from behind as I tried to make my way towards the Vulkars—too many people wanted to see what was in that cage.

Bastila.

She looked half-conscious, a collar buzzed dangerously around her neck. I swallowed as I saw the bruises along her legs then paused when I saw the...revealing outfit these Vulkars put on her.

I knew that they were making her do something humiliating.

When the Vulkars huffed, I realized that I was staring for too long at their prize. Muttering something inane to myself, I ducked into the crowd towards the garage. I was there to race for the Jedi...and for nothing else. My heart began to pang with nerves and adrenaline again. So much so that I didn't realize where I was going and ran into a tall red armored alien.

He glared down at me. "Watch where you're going, rookie."

I grimaced but otherwise stepped out of his way. He was in a bad mood, wasn't he? I shrugged as I entered the cool swoop garage, and fount the Bek's Ithorian mechanic. He was tutting as he went over my swoop with a datapad.

"You don't even have a chance of getting through half the race without something blowing off from within the accelerator," he said, shaking his hammerhead. I patted one of the duel engines.

"I could still try though, right?" I asked.

"Not unless you go at a Hutt's speed. You would lose the race anyway."

I grabbed the datapad from the Ithorian's grip. The accelerator was red on the swoop's map, glowing hotter when the engines revved. Well...there went my chances of living through this. I should just back out now...

A Wookiee accompanied by a Twi'lek entered the hanger. I narrowed my eyes as I shoved the datapad back to the Ithorian.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered harshly.

Mission placed her hands on her hips. "I'm not a kid. And we wanted to wish you luck before the race. Is there anything wrong with that?"

I glared up at the Wookiee then at the kid. They had to have also brought the kid? I rubbed my forehead of the tension that appeared. Along with a headache. As if I wasn't stressed out enough...

"No...there is plenty wrong with that. It's dangerous. There are Vulkars—"

"You do know that all gang violence is called off during a swoop race, right? We are as safe here as we were in the base."

"But Mission..." Zaalbar interjected.

She twisted around to face the carpet.

"No Big Z, I won't hear it. We can't just make Wessy race without our loving support."

I really doubted their "loving support" would stop an accelerator from collapsing within itself.

The boy within the Wookiee's arms was speaking rapidly. He fell to the floor and looked up at me with bright eyes.

_Ugh..._

"Well, take your loving support out of the hanger," I said, waving them away like Aldaraan royalty. Mission's face scrunched up and she grabbed the little boy's hand like a spoiled brat who didn't get that fancy albino gizka she always wanted.

"Well _fine_. I was going to tell you to break a leg...but now please. Go ahead and break one. Literally."

The boy twisted around to stare back at me. Zaalbar growled sympathetically at me. Meanwhile, the Ithorian mechanic raised his single brow up at the time. I glanced up at the chrono as well and blanched. Twenty minutes until I had to bring this hunk of explosives up to the starting line.

I took that as a sign to get inside the swoop. I grabbed a red helmet from the mechanic's hands and faced the Wookiee.

Zaalbar growled. "Be careful out there. I swore a life debt on you. Don't make that debt pointless."

He stomped away with those final words as I opened the cockpit of what I liked to call the "suicidal" swoop. A few other swoops were making their way onto the old speeder roads—the ones that had to be close to the ground to work. Surprising how recent the modern speeder actually was to these Tarisians.

The road was wide and it seemed as if we had a fair stretch of track before we had to turn dangerously. I wasn't worried about the race of course...I was more worried about the suicidal bike I was racing.

A single engine swoop came up beside me quickly and I recognized him as that rude tall alien I ran into before. A few Vulkars and others in the crowd were cheering his name "Redros." The name sounded familiar. I was pretty sure Zax had mentioned the high amounts of bets people put on the alien. I made a mental note to avoid this red dressed alien at all times during the race. I had enough to worry about already.

I pulled up near the middle row. I tried counting the amount of swoops, and it was around the fifteen range. That was a lot for an illegal swoop race but... I doubted that anyone cared about Republic laws on an Outer Rim _Sith_ planet.

The people were all spread out around the track. The richer guests were closer to the starting line. Mission and her Wookiee were most likely further down and close to the Hidden Beks. An Ithorian announcer croaked out a few positive speeches about how intense this race against the Black Vulkars and the Hidden Beks was going to be.

He left out my impending doom, of course.

I never set foot inside a swoop and now I had to get used to the controls. They were similar to a speeder minus the fact that there were thrusters instead of a wheel to control the vehicle. Oh, and there were brakes and a...well, I guess that was the accelerator pedal since the engines revved with bright energy. I had to be careful with that one.

Many of the swoops around me were simple in design. Most if not all had single engines instead of double like mine. I crossed my fingers and hoped that didn't put me in a serious disadvantage.

Redros was laughing and spit out curses to his mechanic who was oiling the back engines before the race started. Half of the racers were in red and yellow painted swoops while the other half were dark blue or black. Redros' was—of course—the only exception since even though he was a Vulkar his swoop was colored a bright red. My own swoop hadn't even gotten a coat of paint yet and was a tin can compared to everyone else's.

A few Bek's looked towards me with sympathy. Yes, I was the madman who decided to ride the suicidal swoop bike. Now, let's just hope I didn't explode in any of their faces.

Before I could even examine what that meter in front of the cockpit window meant, the old traffic lights above us blinked red. I cursed, putting my hand on the thrusters. It was time to die. I hoped that there would be enough of me to have a funeral with when I was done.

My hands shook as I stared intently at the red traffic light and held my breath when they turned yellow. I didn't even notice myself stepping on the accelerator pedal when the light turned green.

My focus was intent as I weaved through the traffic of swoops. I never took my eyes off the track and felt the foot that was on the accelerator sweat. The black market accelerator did indeed increase the speed of this swoop, so much so that I was climbing up to third place.

Four laps. That was all I needed. However, the track was long which was why I wasn't even going to last for two. I tried putting those thoughts aside as I made my first turn, letting my foot go of the accelerator and bending smoothly into the turn. It was almost as if I was one with the machine as cheesy as that sounded.

The first lap was easy. I gradually weaved in and out of second and third place like an unfaithful couple. Redros easily kept first place and the crowds cheered as he whooped on his red swoop like a crazy Ewok. I narrowed my eyes at the Vulkar and decided to risk stepping on the accelerator a little bit more.

I soon realized what that meter was for. Overheating.

The red lights blinked at me from the meter. I cursed as I was forced to step back on the pedal, weaving my bike away from fresh debris. It took me a second to realize that the smoky swoop had been the person who had been in second place—a Bek.

Redros was laughing and sped away like a criminal caught on the scene of the crime. I was forced to back off as I crossed the see-through line, falling into seventh place. _Seventh_.

And that wasn't the end of that. _Oh no_. Redros had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Another explosion rippled through the track and I made a quick and precise swerve as I... _sensed_ the metal engines flying into me. A second later, the engines truly fell from the sky. It was as if I saw that with double vision. Like I could predict the future.

_How?_

I passed over the debris of another Bek swoop, then held my breath as I had to make another quick swerve to avoid an aggressive Vulkar. The Twi'lek cursed at me. Since I was the only one on the track who had a covered cockpit, I couldn't curse back.

Then, as I crossed the line again, I was in last place. I was starting to lose hope. How could I do this when on this very lap the suicidal swoop was going to backfire on me? My grip on the thrusters was sweaty yet I kept a continued focus on the stretch of road that seemed to be going on forever.

Then...a twinge of hope.

It was soft and in the distance...like a faraway dream in the mists. The images I saw—of Deralia, of my ship, of the wild wilderness of home—filled me with the confidence to keep going. Ha, it was almost as if someone was giving me morale...

 _Wait_.

The Vulkars were slowing down and I passed them as if I had just been catching my breath and meant to save my energy for the final stretch. I glanced out of the cockpit and saw the frightened and terrified faces of the Vulkars...even the Beks. Pretty soon, I was in second place again, Redros' back appeared like an unwanted plague. I was intent on catching up to him though, so I stepped onto the accelerator and ignored the red meter.

A big mistake.

I felt something break inside my mind and all havoc went loose inside the bike. Puffs of smoke trailed out of the suicidal swoop and I was slowing down rapidly. Sirens were going off from somewhere. I didn't know what was happening before I realized that the acceleration pedal wasn't working anymore. And I was stuck, slowing down and gradually being passed like I was nothing.

Kriff...come on! This was worse then exploding in a pile of smoke! I was just sitting there...a failure! I squeezed the thrusters tightly as I felt _something_ within my mind again. It was familiar...

And then, it was as if I felt everything yet nothing at the same time.

The engines sprung to life and the swoop sped forward. One of my hands gripped onto my seat in surprise. I was going at an even faster speed then before the accelerator broke down. I smirked slightly as the bike began to pass the racers again.

_How in all hells did the speeder turn on again?_

I swerved around the track as those questions came into my mind as if losing my focus effected the swoop's engines...

Soon enough, I was beside Redros.

"You Beks!" he shouted.

He rammed his red shiny swoop towards me. Fortunately, I was able to weave away, using those quick reflexes of mine again. We passed the line the third time—some swoops stopping to get their bike fixed at a mechanic. I knew that my Ithorian mechanic would be of no help to me. It was a miracle the two steaming engines were still functioning...

Redros tried slamming into me again. The crowd buzzed with a strange excitement. I didn't really know what was going on anymore...

"Slemo!" he shouted at me as we came up to the halfway point of the track.

Before I could get _too_ excited at possibly winning, a strange sound came from the front of the swoop.

One of my engines stopped running.

"..."

My face paled, my eyes widening, as I became aware that I was on a suicidal swoop that was only functioning on _one_ engine. _One_ and nothing else. _Nothing_ besides that and the accelerator was keeping this thing floating.

Except for... _I had no_ fucking _clue._

I was beginning to panic and it was showing in the swoop, the bike with its own mind jumping up and down like an excited gizka. Redros was so shocked that he didn't notice the pile of Bek swoop parts that he—ironically—left behind. I heard him shout once before his swoop became a manual grenade. My bike ducked along with me as the explosion propelled me across the finish line.

I paled as the body of my swoop dropped. Whatever force was keeping it together disappeared once the race finished. I yelped as I slid to a stop and brushed away fire as the friction rubbed against the metal.

I opened the cockpit door and jumped out while rolling painfully away from the suicidal swoop. A few other swoops passed over me and slide back when my bike exploded, accidentally taking some others with it.

Falling debris collided with the track. The crowd was deathly silent. The few remaining swoop racers had stopped their bikes and were looking between me and my swoop in shock.

I couldn't believe this.

I won.

Only after the Ithorian announced the Hidden Beks as the winners did the crowd cheer.


	8. Taris: Bastila Shan

I held my grimy head as the Ithorian mechanic helped me to my feet and brushed me off.

"I-I can't believe it! You won!"

Ha...yeah. I still couldn't believe it either.

Walking was rather difficult since my leg got burnt from the overheated swoop. The crowd was still going wild with both glee and outrage. We were not done yet with the Black Vulkars. Oh no. Our problems had only just begun.

I waved the mechanic off as I limped towards the garage. A few Hidden Beks were whooping and gave me thumbs up from their bikes. I returned the gesture with a crooked smile. I defied the freaking laws of physics. Of course I was awesome...and shaken to the core.

A few Vulkars shouted at me when I got to the garage, but the many Beks were protecting me like I was Gadon Thek himself. The Hutt, Zax, was being overrun by angry gamblers each demanding a full refund that the creature would never give back. All of them were saying the Hutt cheated and lied to them. Really? After I performed something so...impossible, they blamed the Hutt for getting the odds wrong?

At least some of the yelling was being directed off of me.

The entrance to the Lower City Arena was overflowed with people of all races and sizes. Many Black Vulkars were marching angrily towards me. All were led specifically by a dark-skinned tired looking man.

"You!" He pointed a wild finger at me. "You _cheated_ you _fucking_ bastard!"

I glancing towards the cage Bastila resided in. Before I could argue, the doors behind me closed and locked with a red light. The mechanic beside me flinched, his eyes widening.

"What are you—"

A wild blaster shot and the Ithorian mechanic went down. I backed away with my hands raised. What the hell? These Vulkars weren't seriously going to deny that I won that race. A few Hidden Beks, all of them swoop bike riders themselves, took out their rifles. The two groups were now in a stand-off. The heavy eyed man in front of me puffed up in anger.

"You cheated!" he repeated.

"Shut up, Brejik, you liar!" shouted a Bek beside me.

I frowned. After this, I was going to have serious migraines. For sure.

"Okay...how the hell would I be able to fake _that_?" I asked.

The man—I assumed this was Brejik due to his stupid persistency—smiled at me. He glanced towards the poor Duro coordinator who backed up behind his microphone enhanced desk that was echoing our conversations to the entire floor.

He laughed once. "Swoop bike accelerators are illegal on this circuit and Gadon bought one from the Exchange before Taris went under the Sith's radar. That's how!"

That bastard Gadon...he really did have all of his bases covered. He didn't expect me to live through this, did he? Well, he was going to have a few words from me after all of this was over.

I shrugged. "You don't exactly have proof now, do you?"

I thanked the Force that my bike exploded into smithereens after that race, despite the casualties it caused.

Brejik puffed again and glared at the Duro.

"Disqualify him!" he shouted at the poor alien.

The coordinator ducked. "I-I-The rules don't say anything about this. I mean...that was impossible—"

"Then I'm taking back the Vulkar's share of the swoop prize!"

There were a few gasps and confused glances—mostly coming from the smaller gangs. Some of the Beks around me were angry and alarmed and my heart was beginning to skip. He couldn't do that, could he? Kriff...that race had better been for something rather than nothing!

The Duro peeked up from underneath the desk. "B-But you can't do tha—"

Another blaster shot from the Vulkars. The poor coordinator collapsed, and his body turned off the sound systems with a screech. Did he have something against Duros and Ithorians or something? He really needed to tone down the aggression. That wasn't really helping to cool my own desire of killing him in the most painful of ways. The Beks turned their blasters off of stun. I raised my own and made sure to point it directly at that bastard Brejik.

I didn't want it to come to this. I mean, if we were going to have a fight, why didn't we do it before I almost raced to my death? Brejik raised his own blaster to point at me and neither of us made a move.

Then, something moved in Bastila's cage. The Vulkar who stood in front of it shouted. Two hands came from beyond the bars and bashed his head into the hard surface. I averted my gaze from Brejik to the chaos occurring near the cage.

Brejik was frantic. "H-How? I put you on a neural disrupter!"

As if in answer, the cage door creaked open. The collar fell to the ground beside the Jedi, and her grey eyes focused on the Black Vulkar leader.

"You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik. A mistake you won't live to regret."

"..."

She just let herself out? And she could have done this...whenever? So, she just wasted my precious time. Couldn't she breakout when it was a little more convenient for people like me who just risked his neck on a suicidal swoop race? Please and thank you.

The Vulkars waved their blasters about in confusion as if not really understanding who or what they should shoot.

Brejik growled. "Kill the swoop rider! Kill the Beks! Kill them all!"

Well, no need to be so quick about this—

I ducked when Brejik shot his blaster at me and used the desk with the dead Duro as cover from the Black Vulkars. Some other Beks thought of the same idea and ran to my side. Their grenades and rifle shots covered the sparking desk. A few shouts were coming from the far side of the room. When I peered up from cover, Bastila twirled in the air like a bird with her newly acquired vibroblade. She stabbed at one of the Vulkars that guarded her. His parsed screams assured me that the Jedi was more than capable of helping herself.

I shot out from beyond the desk and hit a Twi'lek Vulkar—that same one that cursed me out on the swoop race track. Smirking at the sweet revenge, I ducked again as a grenade flew in our direction...then flew straight back at them. The Black Vulkars couldn't even react before it exploded in their faces.

That Jedi really was something. It made me grateful, for a second, that I was on her side. I think...

That all changed when Bastila appeared like a bad headache and shoved something over the side of the desk and into me.

I groaned as I shoved the dead Vulkar away only to jump when Brejik barreled over the desk. I hadn't even noticed when the Beks were shot down so I had no back up fire. Brejik tackled me with his blaster, and my own weapon spun away. I pulled my knife in order to return the offense which included attempting and failing at pushing this bag of meat off me. Using my head, as always, I hit him squarely in the jaw.

I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my blaster.

He raised his hands when I pointed that blaster at him. "Please...I surrender..."

My eyebrows scrunched up in disbelief as I edged closer to the Vulkar.

"Are you serious? You think I would show you any mercy after what you did?" I said, remembering the face of that poor girl and the slaves I had to abandon.

Brejik coughed again. "I...misunderstood this responsibility. I just wanted Gadon to see that I was right! I...I never meant—"

I pulled the trigger. Brejik's body jumped when the blaster shot hit him. His blank, unseeing eyes stared up at the silver Lower City ceilings.

I killed him just like I promised. Yet why didn't I feel satisfied? This guy was a monster...

I decided to ignore the Vulkar leader's body, then spotted Bastila from across the room. The crowd was in an uproar—I began to worry about Mission and the others. I really hope they weren't caught in a mob.

Bastila lowered her vibroblade which was now marked with blood from the Vulkars surrounding her. We were the only two still alive. All of the swoop racers who participated were dead. I frowned at the massacre that we both somehow survived then smirked. After all, we survived.

She sighed as she bent over her blade.

"What am I to do now..."

"Well..." I began, rubbing my head. "We could start by getting the hell out of here."

She twisted around with the blade and pointed it at me. When our eyes met, I was reminded of that time on that Republic carrier ship when she gave me that shocked sad look. That look disappeared like the wind. She lowered the weapon and her expression turned numb.

"You. You're...that soldier. From the Endar Spire. You survived?"

I smirked. "Well, of course I survived. Who do you think I am?"

"And?" she asked.

I frowned, scratching my head. What exactly did she want now? We had to leave this dump before people realized we weren't all dead up here.

"And...what?" I asked in return.

"Why are _you_ here?" she finished.

I hadn't even noticed when my own angry thoughts surfaced into my voice.

"Why am _I_ here?" I half-shouted, narrowing my eyes. "Hmm, let's see—I risked my neck by crashing a Sith party, by walking through the Lower City, by almost being shot to death by a crazed bounty hunter, by defeating a rancor of all things, by climbing through a gang's base to only rescue a kriffing Wookiee, by being conned into racing with a swoop that could explode in my face—it almost did by the way, and all you can say after all of that is 'why are you here?' _Really_?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you done?"

My face felt hot. I couldn't believe this. After sacrificing my own pride by listening to Carth's orders, I'm treated to this unappreciative Jedi.

"I _rescued_ you."

She tilted her head, that annoying amused look still on her face.

"Rescued me?" she said. "I think I let myself out of that cage without your help. Some rescuing you did. Actually, you are more correct to say that I rescued you."

Kriff...she was being difficult.

" _How_?" I asked with a dry tone. "I protected myself all throughout that fight."

"Not just the fight," she responded. "The swoop race. I used battle meditation on those other riders after I broke that collar. You weren't exactly...winning."

I didn't really know how I felt about that. I definitely felt less accomplished then before. Heh, so I really did cheat on that race. I glanced towards Brejik's corpse empathetically.

No. No! She didn't save me at all.

I crossed my arms. "Well...I won that race anyway, so I own you now."

When I glanced back at her, that victory like smile disappeared from her face. "No one _owns_ me," she said. "And you really thought that a Jedi couldn't get out of that situation herself?"

"You looked pretty defenseless to me, 'Jedi,'" I retorted with air-quotes.

Her face scrunched.

"I only appeared defenseless so those guards didn't start suspecting something. Do you think I'm that stupid?"

I raised my eyebrows, smirking. "Well...you _look_ stupid," I said, pointing with my gaze at her embarrassing hooker costume.

Her face froze and she turned away with a red face. She marched towards the door with a "hrumph" before stopping at the locks. I made my way to her side as she waved her hand over the lock. Somehow using her Jedi magic to get us out of this situation.

It was silent as I peered past the Jedi only for her to glare back at me. I didn't stink that much, did I? Well... I had been climbing through Gamorrean infested sewers a few hours ago. I probably smelled like death. She deserved that anyway after her caustic remarks.

I took a step forward once the door hissed open—blaster at my side.

"Follow me. I know the quickest way out," I said.

The crowds all rushed around like little bugs. Zax was escaping near the tracks with a bounty hunter squad surrounding him. At the opposite side of the hall, an elevator that was in lock down was untouched by the surrounding chaos. Both of us made for that elevator. I tried to open it, yet I sighed when it denied my biometrics. I was no hacker, but I might as well try.

"Were there any others?" she asked.

I looked at her briefly before turning back towards the panel again.

"We don't really have time—"

"Just yes or no," she said. "Were there other survivors?"

Her depressed voice barely rose above the sounds of the rioting around us. Strange. I thought the only emotion she had was stuck up her ass. I cursed as I messed with the alien letters of the panel then slapped it when the thing wouldn't cooperate. It was asking over and over again for a keycard. These damn machines.

I moved away from the panel in order to look for the keycard. Then I realized. Bastila's question. Right.

She followed me as I dug around in the pockets of multiple dead bodies.

"Just that commander. He was the only one I was with..." I said.

A few people ran past us as I searched for the manual way up along with a few Black Vulkars. They were all smart enough not to mess with us though.

Bastila's face relaxed. "Carth Onasi is alive? Finally some good news." _My survival was bad news then?_ "I was worried that I left the commander to his death when I crashed on Taris. Maybe I misjudged you. Carth wouldn't have sent you if he didn't trust in your...abilities."

I stopped searching the corpse of a Twi'lek and turned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Jedi stopped pacing then crossed her arms. "Well...if I remember correctly, you were just a recruit on the Endar Spire. I'm quite amazed that such a low ranking officer was able to escape the ship and survive down here. And if Carth Onasi believed that you were capable enough to race, then you must be more then you appear to be."

A grin marked my face as I resumed my search. How was she able to do that? Unlike the pilot who demanded answers, this Jedi just flat out guessed them all. Well, except for one minor detail.

"Of _course_ I'm capable. In fact, the only reason I'm here is because Onasi was incapable."

"What are you talking about?"

I didn't answer as I held up a blaster to a sneaky looking Black Vulkar who was trying to get into a different elevator. When he raised his own pistol I shot him down then ran up to the panel. The keycard was still inserted into the frame and the elevator shot open.

I shoved the dazed Jedi past the open doors.

"Ladies first."

Her face scrunched again and I smiled back at her.

"You didn't answer my question."

I followed her in and finally relaxed when the elevator closed. Probably the cleanest getaway I've ever done. Let's hope that the situation doesn't change. I looked down when I noticed that Bastila was still glaring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You don't really pay attention at all...do you?"

I sighed. "You'll see soon enough."

* * *

We arrived at the base around midnight. The Hidden Beks were all in shambles. There had been many casualties during the race and the battle afterward. Some were sitting on the ground covering their grieving face with their hands. Some were looking up at us with hate in their eyes. I grit my teeth as I led the Jedi to the med bay with the intentions of showing the pilot my success.

Mission was already there with the little kid who looked up as soon as we entered. Zaalbar was no where to be seen.

Something like a boulder collided into me.

"Wes! You won that race and...that was just amazing!"

Mission had begun suffocating me again. I smiled over towards Bastila. Yeah, _I_ won that race. And I will not let that down.

"Are you alright?" I asked when she finally released me.

She frowned. "Zaalbar was hurt a bit in the rush out. Otherwise, we're all okay. He said it was just a scratch and barreled through those Vulkars like a trooper!"

Another instance of this Wookiee's brash nature...

Carth sat up when he saw the Jedi. He looked a bit better, so much so that he flung his legs out of the bed. Kolto bandages were wrapped around his legs and his arm was still in a sling. Somehow, the sight of the Jedi returned the color to his paling skin.

"Bastila! You're alive! Things are starting to look up! Now we just need to find a way off this planet." He blinked once before his features contorted with confusion. "What are you wearing?"

I smirked. Bastila was still wearing that outfit Brejik made her wear. I wondered when she would ever decide to get rid of it. Unless she _liked_ wearing those scantily clad clothes. I wouldn't complain if she continued...

The Jedi coughed. "Nothing. Just...forget this for now."

I really doubt anyone would want to forget _that_.

"What happened while I was gone?" she asked. "And what do you mean you haven't found a way off this planet? What have you been doing?"

I interjected. "We were trying to find you, remember?"

"That's no real help. You should have been more focused on getting out of here, not skipping around doing who knows what."

I sighed then sat on a bed beside Carth's. That's what I've been _saying_.

The pilot's face turned red. " _Skipping around?_ We were trying to find you Bastila. You didn't really expect us to just sit around and wait for the Sith to capture you, right?"

"We could be leaving now if you had found passage off of this planet. Now, that I'm back in charge maybe we can start by doing some things right."

"We _couldn't_ find passage off of this planet." Carth said. "We are _quarantined_. What do you expect?"

Bastila huffed before looking away. "Well, as your upper officer, Carth, I expected more from you. I've helped the army win more than enough battles with the use of Battle Meditation. I'm sure that my abilities will be of more use then...whatever you have been trying to do so far."

Great, what a nice way to pull rank. Mission was getting agitated along with the little boy that had jumped up to sit beside me. I frowned, leaning forward, holding my head and covering my eyes.

"You guys are kinda loud. Can you take your domestic dispute somewhere else?" I muttered, pulling my hand through my hair. "And does it really matter what we did or didn't do right now? We need to get off Taris. Isn't that more important than fighting over who's the line leader like spoiled children?"

My voice was cracking a bit. After all, I was rather tired. I had gone through two days already without proper sleep. Was it too much to ask for some peace and quiet?

Bastila narrowed her eyes at me. Oh no, what was the Jedi going to say now?

"I...I'm sorry. I've been through a lot recently. For now...it's probably best that we rested."

Wow...hadn't expected her to say "I'm sorry." Maybe I misjudged this Jedi.

I wondered where we would sleep after she said that. I doubted the Beks wanted us around anymore. The apartment was in the Upper City and at least a few hours walk. Carth looked healthy but not healthy enough for a morning jog.

I guess that meant we were going to sleep in those uncomfortable bunks again. I was not looking forward to it.

The little tach monkey (I had no other name for him) jumped up and attached himself to my arm. I pulled the little kid off quickly.

"Look...you don't have to follow me everywhere, right? Probably safer for you if you stayed away, actually," I said, placing him on the ground.

He sighed and muttered, "But..."

Wait, I understood that. I tilted my head as Mission began to lead us away. I stared down at the kid for a long time, wondering if the little slave wasn't just playing games.

I jumped when Bastila stood before me.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

I looked between the kid and the Jedi before smiling, shaking my head.

"Must have been my imagination," I muttered, walking forward.

The Jedi came up beside me.

"What was your imagination?" she asked.

Mission was leading us to the accursed bunks when I shook my head—dazed. I must have been tired, that was it. Fatigue playing with my mind.

"Nothing."

* * *

_A red mask. Golden sparks. Bastila's terrified face. A devil shrouded in darkness. Explosions. Pain._

Air returned to my lungs and I sprung up _._ Once I realized that it had only been a dream and that we were still here, on Taris, I sank back to the ground.

Another nightmare. I tried to massage away the ever present headache as the dream I had repeated in my mind over and over again. They were getting worse, those dreams, right after we returned to the apartment in the Upper City.

I was sleeping on the ground—my own bed had been taken over by Mission who snoozed unaware of the troubles below. She had insisted she come with us after hearing about the Wookiee's life debt. I was surprised, I had thought the Hidden Beks meant everything to her. Yet, perhaps in the process of protecting her, they had also pushed her away.

Gadon. The Beks' leader was still in mourning after I debriefed him of what happened. I don't know why. Brejik had become a monster. He should have been understanding, not depressed and heartbroken.

I sighed. After that nightmare, I doubted I could ever return to sleep. It was the same every night after we returned. Bastila fighting a...Sith? Revan? The mask looked a lot like the ones displayed on the holonews. It terrified everyone. I don't know why my mind was so focused on the Jedi and Revan lately. I was pretty sure I had the turn of events aboard that ship memorized. Said a lot about my mental state, honestly.

Eventually, I glanced towards the Jedi. She was sleeping on the floor after I convinced her that the pilot needed soft ground to heal off the rest of his wounds. Surprisingly, she didn't argue.

Instead of returning to my hopeless attempts at sleep, I shook the blanket off of my form and grabbed my blaster. Fresh air. Or at least partial fresh air. That's what I needed. Which meant another midnight stroll around the building. What else was I supposed to do? Slipping on boots quietly, I checked to make sure that Mission and the little kid were still fast asleep. Nodding to myself, I turned again and headed for the door.

Then a presence. _Danger._ I lashed out behind me without hesitation. Before my punch collided, my wrist was caught. It took a few seconds for me to realize bright grey eyes were peering at me from the night.

"Where are you going?" Bastila asked.

I pulled my hand away from her grip and relaxed. "Kriff...don't scare me like that. I almost hit you."

And, again, why does she care about where I was going? Have I made friends of stalkers? Were these crazy people even my friends?

The Jedi Commander wore civilian clothes after I teased her enough about that stupid outfit. When we came up here with Sith papers that Zaedra provided, Carth insisted that she wear an old cloak to hide her identity. Since these Sith were morons, I doubted that they would be able to tell who she was anyway.

Bastila crossed her arms as she was wont to do. "That is beside the point. What I want to know is where you think you're going this late at night."

"Who are you, my mother?" I opened the door. "Ah, you've caught me. I've been sneaking out of the house to crash cantinas that I'm not allowed to go to. Please don't ground me."

Bastila closed the door again somehow and I turned to glare at the Jedi. She really didn't know how to take a joke, did she?

Ever since we returned to the apartment, the Jedi always kept an eye on me like a stalker. I really shouldn't have been surprised when she finally decided to follow me out like a mother who caught her son sneaking out of the house with a girl. Really.

I sighed. "Can't I just have a nice evening stroll once and awhile?"

She stared at me. Kind of off putting. I wonder if that was me or just the effect these Jedi had on people. They were protective yet cruel. Yet, for Bastila, she grew crueler and crueler as the minutes went by.

"I could sense that you've been...disturbed these past few nights after I escaped the Vulkars."

My annoyed looked turned into that very emotion she described. Okay, so now she was using her Jedi powers to poke and prod into my mind. The apartment was small enough already. She had to take my psychological space away from me as well?

Instead of addressing that issue, I smirked. "When I rescued you, you mean."

She sighed. "That again? I undoubtedly remember rescuing and protecting myself in that fight."

Remembering fighting those Vulkars...and how I killed Brejik afterward made me flinch. I wondered if she could sense that? I felt myself growing red slightly.

"That doesn't exactly give you an excuse to snoop through my mind with your physic powers, now does it?"

The Jedi frowned—was she actually feeling guilty for what she did?

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help but notice. You...you have a certain effect on the Force that I cannot explain. I've felt it ever since that swoop race and the battle afterward. Mission told me the details. I find the situation quite...odd."

I hit the manual button to the door again and stomped outside.

"Well it sounds as if you don't even know what you're talking about."

If we were going to be talking about such stupid things then I at least wanted to have the view of the "lovely" Tarisian skyline.

The hallways were desolate. Occasionally, a few cleaning droids made their rounds.

And Bastila still followed me.

"You race a swoop that is supposed to explode after too much activity. The accelerator eventually overheats one of the engines and what happens? Your swoop keeps on going like nothing happened. I mean...you may or may not have the ability but we need to consider—"

"Stop _talking_." I swiveled around in order to face the Jedi. "That isn't...what you are trying to say can't be _possible_! That wasn't..."

I leaned against the hallway wall, my face shaded in darkness created by the low budgeted lights. What happened to that swoop...that was just my dumb luck acting up again. I was used to it, as a smuggler, things would just happen the way that I wanted them to. But the Force? Me?

She walked closer, but I didn't turn to look back at her.

"You might not want to listen to me, but I've sensed that the Force has been working through you for some time."

I was livid.

"Working through me? What does that even mean? And you can't actually be serious."

"How else were you able to avoid the Sith's detection, discover my location, kill a rancor, invade that Vulkar base all on your own, _and_ gain sponsorship for the race? That is quite a resume."

I shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a talented individual."

Bastila walked directly into the space I was gazing in which forced me to look at her.

"Yes, I can see you don't lack in ability. Although _modesty_ is another matter."

I huffed. Modesty was a weakness that people liked to plague themselves with. If all of us were as assured about this as I was, maybe the Republic would actually get stuff done. Like protecting the people from Sith or Mandalorians...maybe?

"If you think so...but the Force?" I laughed as I leaned off the hallway wall. "I think you underestimate us non-Jedi."

She didn't respond as I walked away once again down the hall.

What would using the Force help me to achieve? I heard of the Jedi many times and their death defying feats. Even saw a lightsaber or two in the black markets. But to actually chain myself down and become one? I was born to travel the Outer Rim...not to sit around like a chastised monk and preach about becoming one with the Force. Jedi Knights traveled around but always under orders. Never by choice.

And I lived by choice. And freedom.

What Bastila was telling me was not what I wanted to hear. At all. And...how, after the thirty-two odd years I had been alive, was I suddenly "Force Sensitive?"

A hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned to face the worried looking Jedi and was prepared to run off if she tried to say one more word about—

"I may not be a Jedi Master and these new abilities that somehow manifested themselves within you might be unfamiliar...but the Force works in mysterious ways. At times, it is better to accept what is true than to forever live in ignorance."

I stopped my prepared rant then gave the Jedi a curious look. I didn't want her to be right, but if I was Force sensitive then I wanted to know about it. Having some unknown hidden power inside me didn't sound safe. And with the Sith out and about...

The fatigue had begun to catch up with me, so I sighed and slid down to the ground against the wall.

A few things had been a bit...off about our whole adventure in Taris, all starting with that flickering light, then that lightsaber somehow changing course, until finally the swoop bike. The truth fell into my lap like cantina dominoes. Like a crime scene revealing the killer to be the victim—me—after all this time.

I felt a body beside me and glanced over to the Jedi. Her eyes looked older and wiser than she was really at times. That nightmare came back to me again and in it those eyes had been determined yet...sad. She swiped her dark pigtails over her shoulder and gave me a look.

"You want to say something?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting.

"I've been dreaming about you." I flinched once I realized how creepy that sounded then quickly amended. "I mean...I dreamed about you and a man in a red mask. Revan. Fighting in a space battle. Do you...know what that means?"

Her old eyes appeared hurt and she looked away from me as if I slapped her. Maybe...Revan was a sour topic around the Battle Meditator? He definitely didn't look or act pleasant. Since we were metaphorically being held hostage by the Sith, mentioning Revan probably wasn't a good idea at all when Malak—his apprentice3was trying to find her.

However, I was curious and these nightmares were starting to piss me off. I wanted to rid myself of them but at the same time I wondered how these dreams were getting into my brain to start with.

After a while, Bastila finally stood and began to walk away.

I shot up with her.

"Hey...where are you going?"

For once, I was asking that question.

Before she opened the door to the apartment, she twisted back around to address me.

"I...I don't know what to say about that. Without proper wisdom, I doubt I could tell you what that dream really means. But maybe, someday, you will know the truth."

I sighed. "Look, all I want is for these dreams to go away. I don't need answers, really."

If the Force was giving me these visions...then I at least wanted to learn how to force them away. Literally. And if applying myself to the Jedi's teachings for little bit would help me solve that problem, then why wouldn't I? Ha, that was crazy for me to say. Though...maybe it was just a fluke. If these Jedi realized I was just that then I would be happy. No, ecstatic.

Bastila lowered her gaze. "I wish...I could help you."

And with that foreboding statement, the door opened and Bastila left me in the hall. I should probably be careful with what I say around her. She must have been disturbed after being held hostage by Brejik for so long. I know I would.

I glanced up through the large windows out at the Sith fleet.

_A pale bald man with a metal jaw._

Pain surfaced in my brain and I shook my head when that strange image entered my mind. I was going crazy. First that boy speaking to me in Basic and now random images were popping into my head.

A shrink in Coruscant would have deemed me insane the second I walked across their carpets.


	9. Taris: A Plan

"Where are we going?"

That had been Carth who, once again, pestered me as we browsed the Upper City pavilions.

The hunt for a way off of this planet was well underway. The plan had been for Carth and I to eavesdrop around the Sith. Carefully, of course. So far, all we came up with were bratty little kids that liked to pick on Ithorians and a xenophobic old man. The base a few miles away from the apartment was apparently full of Sith officers. Even though I was crazy enough to ride a swoop bike in a race, I wasn't crazy enough to go snooping around in there.

And then there were the rumors. About some Ebon Hawk that Davik Kang somehow got his hands onto before the Sith came along. Apparently, he was the only person that avoided the embargo and confiscation of all ships and speeders.

We were about to give up for the day before I was approached by a harried looking Twi'lek.

And now we were heading to our next lead. And I knew Carth was not going to like it. Not one bit.

I glanced around at the few speeders that were left—all piloted by Sith. One of their ship's hovered above the ground, their wings folded out before it glided into space. The cantina was around here somewhere...

An elbow knocked into mine as Carth expressed his annoyance. "Did you hear me? Where are we going? It's getting late, you know."

I really didn't feel like dealing with the pilot right now.

Especially since...

Mission came up beside us with large steps. "Whacha guys talking about?"

I hadn't noticed it until now, but my frown was heavily set into my face. The shuttles of Sith seemed so much more interesting than whatever we were trying to do. Which was...my eyebrows scrunched up. What were we doing again?

The blue Twi'lek appeared again and I baulked when a hard surface connected with my shin. Carth was giving me one of his suspicious looks and Mission was giving me a concerned one.

"Are you alright? You've been dazed all morning. Did something happen?" she asked.

Beside the fact that I rarely got any sleep anymore? Beside the fact that I could be Force sensitive? Beside the fact that the Sith could kill all of us at any moment?

Not to mention that Canderous Ordo wanted me to see him. Or else he would turn us over to the Sith? I mean, why _else_ would that Mando want to have anything to do with me?

I looked away from her and began to trudge forward again.

"It's nothing. Let's just keep going..."

Again, I had no idea where the cantina was. I didn't want to say anything about that either and reveal the shit we had just gotten ourselves in.

Carth snorted. "That's what I asked you. Where are we going?"

I looked over my shoulder.

"Why don't you decide, Commander Orangy?"

He was, in fact, wearing his orange jacket again while I also wore my old red one. Cheap armor bought with little credits didn't deserve to grace my perfect form.

But really, it was more of a danger to wear those second-hand Hidden Bek leftovers. During the fight with the Black Vulkars, my armor was tugged and burnt in places that were painful. Uncomfortable places. Carth's had been ripped into cortosis shreds of fiber by the rakghoul's claws.

There went the rest of my credits, all wasted in one day on pathetic pieces of shit.

I swear, if I met Zax again I would have to remind him that he owed me a few thousand for winning that race.

Carth glared at me. _Finally,_ someone to fight with.

"Because I have run out of ideas. We checked all the cantinas on this side and nothing. We checked Sith apartment buildings and stations. Still nothing. At least...not without causing a scene. We're running out of options."

I sighed, looking up into the sky and spotted the Sith fleet. They were like a shadow creeping over our shoulders. We were running out of time, weren't we?

Mission came alongside Carth.

"There are still a few cantinas we haven't checked yet," she said. "They're not exactly... _nice_ but what else could we do?"

The pilot looked down at her. "And how does a kid know this?"

The Twi'lek pouted. "I'm not—!"

"—a kid. I get it. But still, how have you lasted this long on Taris on your own? Surely you had parents or...someone."

The Twi'lek stopped walking and I almost missed the glare that she gave the pilot. He really liked to piss everyone off, didn't he?

"That isn't true! The Hidden Beks and Big Z helped me and even then I can take care of myself." She huffed. "In fact, when I met Zaalbar, I was the one who saved him. Some Black Vulkars were trying to swindle him in a cantina. He didn't know much about the big city so I told them to shove it. Then, without warning, he just picked them off of the ground like nothing!"

I smirked, remembering feeling petrified when he did that to me.

"And he bludgeoned them to death?" I asked, remembering the pipe.

The Twi'lek looked over towards me and shook her head rapidly. "Of course not! Big Z might look and act tough, but he's really a softy on the inside. They ran off screaming like cowards."

Yeah...a softy that liked slamming people's heads in with metal bars. I'm not sure that Mission really knew Zaalbar despite how close they appeared...

The blue Twi'lek glanced back towards Carth. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be an old geezer to know the streets around here. Big Z is probably twice your age and he had no idea what he was doing when I found him. So, don't underestimate me."

Normally, I wouldn't take a kid like her seriously, but she hasn't yet gotten in our way unlike that other little squirt. I never really felt the need to protect or rescue her from anything. That and she reminded me of myself when I was her age. Street-smart and savvy.

Carth didn't seem convinced. The damn bastard was never convinced.

"I just find it a problem that someone your age has to learn the streets in the first place. Especially on Taris."

The Twi'lek threw her lekku over her shoulder. " _Especially on Taris_? What's that supposed to mean?" The tone of her voice grew in volume.

"Well...Taris isn't exactly the best planet for a kid to be living on. With what I've seen so far the place is an utter mess."

The teenager shook her head. "But...but that's only since the Sith invasion. Everything was fine before."

Words seemed to spill out of my fatigued mouth as I brushed my chin. "Last time I came here it wasn't much different. Same old stuffy Tarisians. But then again I didn't see much..." I muttered, looking down into the Lower City.

The Twi'lek pounced on this.

"You've been here before?"

"You've been here _before_?" Carth repeated but with a darker tone.

 _Kriff_. I dropped my hand. "Err...I meant..."

I didn't want to bring up what I was before I "joined" the Republic Navy. The look that Onasi was giving me was dangerous and dark. I could already tell what he was going to say.

"Why exactly did you come here before? I highly doubt that any normal person would want to come _here_."

Mission looked offended again. "What are you saying? People visit Taris all the time!"

"Taris isn't exactly a vacation spot, Mission. Its been a warzone twice. _Kind_ people haven't visited Taris in years unless they were trying to liberate it."

Sweat began to build up on my forehead. I was far too exhausted to be dealing with Carth's paranoia. In fact, all I wanted was a nice hot bath or maybe even a massage? I doubted that Carth would want to give me either of those.

I stepped away from the side of the street and began to walk away. I had a cantina to find after all and a Mandalorian to threaten.

The pilot began to call after me but I ignored him as I found the nearest cantina - surprisingly one that we missed before. And the one I had been looking for.

A Sith bouncer gave me a look as I stomped past him. Unfortunately, I spotted Carth and Mission trailing me. I wondered why the bouncer didn't stop the teenager like all the other times before I realized that we were in Sith territory.

_What a coincidence._

This upcoming meeting with the Mando was not looking good.

Loud electric music pounded into my head and I walked past gambling tables and groups of laughing Upper City folk. If Carth was still calling after me, I couldn't hear him anymore.

I tried to find the scarred face of Canderous, yet either the Mandalorian had either given up on me or he hadn't arrived yet. So, I decided on sitting at the bar to get a quick fix. A moment of silence passed before Mission jumped into the seat beside me. When my drink came, Carth joined me on the right.

"You're paying for this round. You still owe me 1,000 credits anyway," I said to no one in particular. I drank deeply, draining half of the cup. The soldier beside me was giving me an incredulous look and grabbed my wrist as I finished the chug.

"Look...just stop, alright?"

I forced my hand down and glared at him as he released me—some of the drink spilling out onto my sleeve.

"Should it even matter what I used to be?"

When I asked that question, Onasi grew red.

"Of course it matters. If you were some Sith spy I would want to know about it. How am I wrong to suspect you? Actually, you know what, if you were innocent then you wouldn't even care."

The song changed into something more upbeat and enraging. A few people on the dance floor were shouting words of praise and whooping into the air. I looked off, past the wine and alcohol fridges. I sighed before I took another drink.

"I came to Taris a few years ago to deal with the Exchange. Davik hired my crew to haul the hottest goods along the Corellian run during the war with the Mandos. I was captured a few months ago and _now_ I'm stuck here because I had no idea what I agreed to. They said they needed my language abilities or _whatever_ dumb excuse they had to throw me onto your stupidly named ship. Oh, yeah, and the Endar Spire is the stupidest name I have ever heard. There, you happy you got your fucking answers?"

Carth's expression turned from angered to muted as I went on my tirade. Mission had wilted as well as I ranted on.

I snorted. "Thought so." I pushed myself onto my feet.

If Canderous wasn't here, then someone else had to know where that Mandalorian ran off to.

Leaving the two behind, I tread through the dance floor. Many of the dancers glared at me as I pushed them aside. A few Twi'leks were singing with Bith percussionists on the stage. Those who didn't like to dance were all sitting at tables lit with low red lights. Those were the ones who would have information.

Fortunately, I didn't need to ask. Canderous had been staring at me from one of those tables. He was also in the middle of a heated discussion with a dark haired man. He waved at me when our eyes met and returned his gaze to the man.

The Mando's dark tone cut through the timber of the music. "Davik won't be waiting for long. He isn't a patient man. Mandalorians aren't either."

The man shoved his chair back as he stood. The metal object almost toppled to the ground.

"You will hear from Czerka once the Sith leave the skies, Ordo," the man said.

"If you get out of this alive, you mean?"

The man didn't bother to argue. Instead, he shoved my shoulder as he stomped off towards the exit. I eyed this Mandalorian curiously and he motioned to the seat in front of him. He lit a cigar after I sat. He offered me one, but I quickly declined.

"I was surprised to see you at that swoop race. Thought you would have died in that Vulkar base. You have the toughest balls on this side of the galaxy." He laughed once with the brand between his teeth. "Well, except for me of course."

I raised my brow. "You were at the swoop race?"

"Davik ordered me to come as his bodyguard. It's what I'm stuck with now—licking the boots of this damn Exchange idiots."

"I know the feeling..."

_Believe me._

He smirked as he took another draw of the cigar then blew the thick smoke in my face. I coughed then glared at the Mando.

"I'm tired of working for Davik and his Exchange. As a Mandalorian, working as a lowlife mercenary isn't going to cut it. Fortunately, I ran into someone as crazy as you. I have a proposition. One I'm sure you would be interested in considering your associations."

I raised my eyebrows, leaning back. Hopefully he wasn't alluding to the lightsaber I threw around like a complete idiot.

"You have my attention."

The Mandalorian leaned back in response. "Where should I begin...?"

* * *

"No."

That had been Bastila's answer after relaying to the team what Canderous had propositioned.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. Do you really think we'll get anything else?"

The evening seeped into the high windows and smells of the reheated food we had for dinner remained in the air. The Wookiee, who was never satisfied when it came to food, grumbled at us for starving him to death.

Bastila glanced towards the person that sat across from her. And I refused to look at that person. When we left the cantina, Carth and Mission followed me like shadows. Neither of them spoke a word until we got to the run down apartment building. Mission began to chat like a maniac about the bath she planned to give Zaalbar when we got back. Of course...she was going to use the roundabout way that she always used with the filthy Wookiee—the "Water Spray Deluxe."

The Jedi gave up on getting any assistance from the soldier. So, she addressed me again.

"I find it hard to trust a Mandalorian and his plans. He's from the Exchange. What if this is a trap?"

I picked up my plate from the small table and threw it on top of the other dirty dishes. We haven't bothered doing anything to tidy ourselves since we wanted to _leave_ Taris and not _live_ here.

"I doubt this is a trap. The Mando could have killed me whenever he wanted to. He has nothing to gain tricking us."

"Except that he saw you with me at the race. He could easily just want me to give to the Sith."

Yeah, and I thought that to be true at first. But the Mando could have had us jumped at the Sith controlled cantina. Why would Canderous waste his time on the elaborate scheme?

Instead of voicing this, again, I sat lazily on the couch. They would only be words wasted.

The small boy gave me a tired smile. He hadn't been so clingy since we came up here. In fact, he was starting to enjoy Mission and Zaalbar's company more despite the Wookiee's menacing appearance.

The Jedi got up to get rid of her dishes as well along with Carth who remained silent during this conversation. I wondered why, suspicion was his favorite subject after all. And if he agreed with Bastila it would be two against one.

The Jedi shook her head. "And what he is suggesting...going into a Sith base? That will only endanger our position more than it already is."

"But we have no other choice. And would a Mandalorian really side with the Sith? After what Malak and Revan did to their people?"

Also, doubt a Mandalorian played games like that. Too much "honor."

I think that I almost convinced her because she was giving me that annoyed look. She knew that I was right about this, but didn't want to concede the point.

She sat across from me and beside the tach monkey. He gave her a curious look before heading towards Mission who was fiddling with a device in the corner. That must have been the "Water Spray Deluxe." The looks she was throwing at Zaalbar, who was still whimpering about food, were not kind.

The Jedi sighed. "I see. There is no convincing you. I...suppose there is a chance this Canderous isn't lying..."

"He isn't. Trust me."

The Jedi huffed at my interruption.

" _And_ even if his plan is suicidal, I see nothing else that we could do at this point."

I smiled when she admitted it, those words like fine wine to my ears.

"I knew you would see reason."

She returned the smile.

" _But_ I haven't seen the light of day for _three days_. Even more if you count Brejik's imprisonment. Maybe if I came along..."

Finally, Carth seemed interested in the conversation.

"No. It's too dangerous. I don't know how many times—"

"How am I supposed to help if I'm stuck up here cooking like a housewife and staring at the wall?"

My mouth twisted into a held back smirk. "May I point out that your cooking has helped our stomachs?" Even though her reheated dinners sucked. I wasn't going to mention that small detail, however. I liked my life, after all.

Instead, Bastila ignored my empty compliment and gave Onasi a red angered look. I guess she just figured out I was lying or something with her Jedi voodoo.

"If you two are going to be invading a base then some of those Sith are bound to be strong in the Force. What are you going to do then?"

Well, that goes without saying. _I'll_ use the Force against them. If I'm such a Force sensitive beast then surely I would be able to use my own mind to grab those yellowed-eyed fiends' weapons out of their very grasp!

Carth glanced briefly towards me and I assumed that my face had an expression of courageous glamour and confidence. He looked back towards Bastila when he noticed that I was smiling at him.

"We'll run away," was his lame response.

 _Wow_ , I didn't really know what to say with that _strong_ supporting answer. He should win a medal for Jedi tact and persuasion! I surely would be convinced by that statement!

Bastila gave the pilot a hooded look, a similar expression that I gave her a minute ago.

"Well, as your higher officer I am _ordering_ that I come along."

Life would be so much easier if lower ranked people just listened to their betters like mindless droids. At least...that is what I assumed Bastila wanted Carth to do.

I saw the pilot giving me a look again and I raised my eyebrows. Did he want me to convince the Jedi to not come with us? I wasn't in the mood to fight with her after last night. The wrong sorts of subjects would be brought up around the orange jacketed soldier that I really didn't want to mess with right now.

I sighed when that look stuck onto me, even after I made sure my dark eyes never wavered away.

"Look, Bastila, _sunshine_. If you want to help then use your Battle Meditation on the Sith or something. Surely that wouldn't be a problem, right?"

"In normal circumstances, yes, but you forget that Malak is able to sense the Force as well. His focus will be on the bases and if he senses my influence then this whole plan would have been for nothing."

She really liked to make things difficult. It didn't help that I knew nothing about the abilities of the Force.

I waved a hand. "Then why do you want to come with us if your very presence is going to ruin things?"

Bastila appeared impatient, like I was a child who kept on asking why ships could jump to lightspeed.

" _Because_ it is not me that he senses directly. It is the Battle Meditation."

"If that's the case then why can't you just distract Malak with your powers or something? You were able to influence entire battles without them knowing for a while right?"

She huffed in frustration, her face turning red. "It. Isn't. That. Easy. Just—you are wasting our time with these pointless questions. If we don't go through with Canderous' plans then we will have no hope of getting off of Taris."

Funny, just a second ago she could barely trust the Mandalorian, but when faced with her own pride she decided to go with it. I would have to remember that for future confrontations with her.

Carth was looking away as we fought and hovered beside the small table. His silence was rather creepy and when I glanced towards him as I talked with the Jedi his eyes never met mine. He was still angry about me being a smuggler or something. Despite his misgivings, I had grown a sort of liking to the pilot. He was the only other adult human male in the group after all. I think I would have gone insane otherwise.

Bastila noticed me giving the pilot an eye but she paid no vocal heed to the break in the conversation.

I sighed. "How is your combat prowess, anyway? After all, the famous indestructible Battle Meditator like you was captured by the Vulkars of all people."

Her face grew even redder and she glanced towards her belt as if something important would normally be there.

"M-My Force powers were exhausted while fighting on the Endar Spire."

I "hmmed."

"But surely those thugs wouldn't have stood a chance with your lightsaber, am I right?"

She grew a tomato red and her grey eyes were like storm clouds in strong winds.

"I lost it after the crash. How was I supposed to defend myself?"

I struggled to suppress a laugh. "Wait...you _lost_ your lightsaber?" I couldn't hold back my laughter now. "Out of all the Jedi in the galaxy, why do we get one who's absent-minded?"

I swear that she was going to use those Force powers on me at any second. I could even see her ears turning red.

"This is no laughing matter!" she protested. "I—"

"Well, without your lightsaber I see no point in you coming along with just your Force powers unless you want to be seen carrying a cortosis double blade around the Upper City like a terrorist."

She glanced around as if she could find the answers in the ceiling.

"B-Brejik...must have taken it from me. I have no idea where it is now."

My smile was still on my face when I rested my elbows on my knees.

"I see. What a _sad_ turn of affairs."

Her grey eyes glanced towards me with accusation.

"Where is it?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, feigning confusion.

The Jedi's face grew dark.

"My. _Lightsaber_."

I smiled.

"Brejik had it, didn't he?"

Her mouth flapped up and down when I finally caught her in that little white lie. Of course, she wasn't the sort of person to admit her mistakes. My smile grew wider as I saw her tussle with her own inner pride.

"And now _you_ have it."

Carth gave me a dark knowing look. I ignored him by glancing towards Mission who was focused on her project. The small boy bent over beside her with pure interest. The Wookiee was slumped against the wall beside our bags, tired.

I rubbed my chin.

"Now...why would I have it if Brejik supposedly took it from you?"

She huffed louder this time, extending her hand.

"Enough games. Give me back my lightsaber."

"So rude. I thought Jedi were taught manners. At the very least say 'pretty please.'"

"Please give me back my lightsaber," she said, with a serious look on her face. Carth didn't look amused.

I shrugged. "Sorry, but why should I give you another reason to come along? Orangy already hates my guts."

Bastila glanced towards Carth and he looked away when I mentioned him. Yep, he was still ashamed about what happened in the cantina. I really didn't know why, it was no big deal.

Eventually, the Jedi gave up. At least, I thought so until she stood up and went for our bags. Kriff, she was one step ahead of me!

The handle of the lightsaber reflected in the low light. I took my chance and dove for my bag while Bastila was distracted by Carth's. The Jedi noticed me right after my attack, but she was too late.

Then, Mission began to laugh like a mad woman.

"Time for the 'Water Spray Deluxe,' Big Z!"

The Wookiee roared in terror then covered his face from the spray of water. The Twi'lek held the ancient hose up like a blaster and the little slave whooped wildly at the spectacle.

Unfortunately, I happened to be in the crossfire.

I was quite shocked when cold water hit my face. So much so, I dropped my prize.

"Mission!"

Bastila scooped up her lightsaber before I could react. The Twi'lek finally noticed that she was hitting me as well.

Mission shut off the water immediately.

"Oh jeez...I'm sorry, Wessy!"

My hair and upper body soaked, I shivered like a wounded kath hound. Defeat. Pure, utter defeat. I will never live to see another day. Mission didn't noticed my dark expression as she attacked the Wookiee with sweet smelling soap which dripping all over the floors.

Believe me though...it was anything but sweet.

The Jedi grabbed her cloak and gave Carth and I a look. The pilot shook his head with a huff.

It wasn't my fault.

I swear.

* * *

For some reason, Mission insisted on coming along. Carth had argued that climbing around in a Sith base was too dangerous for a kid but apparently he hadn't learned his lesson.

"I. Am not. A kid," she responded, stomping her foot closer to the pilot with every phrase. Onasi was not amused and glanced towards me as if I could solve all of his problems. I was not a babysitter nor a fatherly figure. Why did these people assume that I could convince and take care of these kids?

However, I took Mission's side.

"Come on, old geezer. She can sneak around better than you," I said, reminding him of the rakghoul incident. He didn't argue any further after that. This guy...

Mission gave me a wide smile and marched after Bastila who was far down the hall. After the "Water Spray Deluxe," Zaalbar didn't really look healthy enough to go walking around. In fact, I feared for the Twi'lek's safety if he came with us. So, I approached the soaking Wookiee. Carefully.

"Hey, ah, Big Z? Can you watch the little guy while we're gone?" I pointed to the dirty kitchen. "You can help yourself."

His whole body lifted at the opportunity. The little boy did look slightly unhappy about being left behind. I really hope they didn't get themselves into trouble.

With that taken care of, I followed Mission and Carth after Bastila's trailing form.

Canderous pointed me towards Janice Nall's droid shop in the run down section of town. Not many Upper City folk wanted to work with an alien and after the Sith came for a visit I was surprised that the Twi'lek Janice was still in business. There was really only one reason why she still was.

The Exchange owed her a debt.

Fortunately, the shop was opened late and we were able to catch her before she closed for the day. Parts of all sorts lined the shelves and buggy protocol droids buzzed nonsense words. Janice shoved a box closed as we walked past the astromech C8s and protocol C6s. Obviously, she wasn't used to getting customers.

"W-Welcome to Janice Nall's droid and repair shop!" she exclaimed as she struggled to put that box away. Mission and Carth lagged behind in order to investigate a beheaded tourist information droid that was on a loop. Bastila wanted to talk to the owner herself first, but I was able to persuade her that I knew my way around the business. I could tell that the seller was put off by the Jedi.

"Um...what can I get you? I was about to close up shop. If you're just browsing—"

I strode up to the counter and slid a slip forward. On it was Canderous' insignia. Important to the plan, I guess.

"Canderous Ordo sent me to pick up a droid. An astromech."

A mixture of recognition and terror dawned on her face. "Canderous? Well then, why didn't you say so?" She looked behind her and I knew where the droid was now. "I've been holding this little guy for weeks. Davik Kang wanted him to...well let's be honest here. Commit crimes. I thought he forgot the order."

"Well, he wants the droid now," I said.

I didn't want the Twi'lek to be asking the crime lord dangerous questions. Bastila crossed her arms as she peered past the girl and into the back of the shop. Janice whistled. The swinging door banged open. A pristine T3 model beeped happily up at me. It could have been considered almost...cute.

"That will be 2,000 credits, as promised," she said with a hand extended.

I swear that I lost the ability to see for a second.

" _2,000 credits_?"

I couldn't believe this. First I made Mission promise me to pay me 1,000 credits for doing that suicidal stunt and now I was being forced to hand over 2,000 credits? Was fate mocking me? Did I mean _nothing_ to the circle of what may be?

And why was _I_ paying for something that Canderous or the Exchange should have? All of it just didn't seem fair...

I laughed. "Well, could we open a credit?"

Janice looked genuinely surprised. "Wait...what? I thought the Exchange had millions of credits. 2,000 wouldn't be much. I thought I was giving you guys a discount."

_Are you kidding me?_

Before my rage could go flying at this innocent store owner, a firm hand grasped my arm. I glanced past my shoulder and Bastila's ancient eyes hit me. Instead of anger and embarrassment there was concern in those eyes. What was wrong? Was it something I said? Or was going to say?

I sighed, realizing that the Jedi wanted me to be diplomatic. Well, guess what, _Jedi_? I hated diplomats and politics. I wasn't going to settle with nothing. This was life and death here and we couldn't just mess around.

Janice Nall was looking towards me expectedly. And then I realized. Canderous didn't want me to pay a credit on this droid. He was expecting me to steal from this poor lady. He really thought I was that low? What type of person would do that?

Oh, right. A smuggler.

I sighed again, rubbing my face. "Look, there is a misunderstanding here. I'll talk to the right people who I swear will pay you back."

_Once I talked to a certain Mandalorian._

But the Twi'lek wasn't having it.

"I'm sorry but the last time I promised someone credit they either died or went broke. You seem like the type that is the latter _and_ the former."

So, there was no way I could do this without threatening her. My face seemed to grow cold and and slapped the counter forcefully. The Twi'lek jumped.

"I'll pay."

Bastila shoved me aside like I was nothing. My angered face calmed instantly as I gave the Jedi a confused look. What was she doing? She wasn't actually going to use her own credits on this? Actually, we were here because of her so shouldn't she be paying anyway?

And why didn't she say something _before_ I almost went ballistic on this lady? She really had to work on her timing.

Nall looked overjoyed and grabbed Bastila's datapad in order to make the transaction.

"I knew you were pulling my leg there," she said, humming a quiet song right after as she put in the numbers. "This little guy is worth more than those 2,000 credits you spent on him. Believe me."

And so we bought T3-M4 the astro droid.

The droid rolled over to us and began to sing. This droid was...rather positive about his little robotic life, huh? Mission and Carth gave the droid a stare and Bastila patted the chassis once. T3 followed the Jedi out and I was last to leave. Janice paid us no mind as she went back to work with her boxes, calling over a protocol droid to help her.

Was she going to scam us? I doubted it, she seemed rather afraid of Davik Kang and didn't seem the type to swindle a powerful crime lord.

When I stepped out into the night, the only person I saw was Bastila and the droid. Mission and Carth were scouting ahead, as ordered by Bastila, to look for the old Republic base. The Jedi sat on a bench, staring off into the night while holding a comm link.

Since she didn't seem to notice I was there, I waved a hand in front of her face.

"Hello, Taris to Bastila."

She jumped and glared at me, crossing her arms as usual.

" _What_?"

"Whoa, what's your problem?" I stepped away as if she was going to bite. "What is your plan anyway? Why send off those two? Let's just storm the place."

The Jedi huffed. "I want to talk."

Great, another Jedi pep talk. I sighed, sitting forward while looking away from her face.

"About what?" I asked. "And please don't confess your deepest feelings. I am not a sap."

Bastila, for once, didn't appear impatient. "It is about Carth. I could sense that you were disturbed whenever you were around the soldier."

I paused, my breathing slow. I glared at her with full force.

"You do know that I like my privacy? Stop snooping around in my mind, creep," I said.

She ignored my playful voice. "I am not snooping willingly. I have already said that you might be Force sensitive. That possibility might have some drawbacks including susceptibility to the dark side of the Force. Whatever happened between you and Carth...I want to know about it."

Was she serious? I was not planning on becoming a Jedi. What did she expect? I was my own man, as I've already stated.

I sat back, looking in the direction where the Sith fleet would be.

"Why are you so interested in the drama of us normal folk?" I asked. "You shouldn't care. You're a Jedi."

The Jedi opened her mouth to respond then pursed her lips. "I suppose you are right. I'm...sorry for prying."

She stood and spoke into the comm. Carth's voice was low in the channel while I pondered our brief conversation. Maybe she was right, maybe I was being too reckless. Of course, I wouldn't admit that but circumstances have led me to believe that something strange was going on here.

I stood and followed the Jedi towards the Sith Base, T3 beeping his first depressing note.


	10. Taris: Davik Kang

I may not have credited my father of doing much in my early life, but there was one thing he always insisted on. Never start trouble if there was any logical reason not to. And the only logical reason to break into a Sith base? Yeah, there was _no_ logical reason.

Sorry old man, I failed to heed your advice.

The stainless steel halls clanged with the heavy steps of the Sith troopers. I raised my blaster pistol as a group of Sith typed at the data panels like a few Republic fugitives hadn't just broken into the place. Little did they know that an ambush was awaiting them.

Bastila had given me a comm link foraged in some second hand shop. Ancient tech but hidden from the Sith's radar. She stood opposite from me beside the door to the server room; her dark gray gaze intent. Carth, Mission, and T3-M4 were in the entry hall hacking into the Sith's databases in order to find the codes we needed to get off the planet. Without them we would be blasted like the Endar Spire's space debris inside the thick Tarisian atmosphere.

Maybe there was a point to this suicide mission after all.

We were on comm silence now. A click from the other side meant that they had succeeded hacking into the systems. The high tech astro droid was supposed to be just that, "high tech," but we had been waiting by the server rooms for five minutes doing piss nothing. I was starting to doubt Janice Nall again.

Then, after a decade, _click_.

Bastila nodded. "On my mark," she mouthed to me.

Fortunately, the Sith still appeared as if they were still unaware of what was about to happen. I counted at least a dozen of these bags of meat, and only a few of them were equipped for battle.

The Jedi brandished the staff of her double-bladed lightsaber and gave me a look. Because she sensed _it_.

Explosions ruptured from one of the server units onto the five of the Sith. Bastila didn't waste any time and dove through the smoke. What I wanted to know was why she didn't time herself for the more important events like say...a swoop race? She needed to get her priorities straight.

The Jedi used the Force on the first opponent; the Sith flew into the flames of the broken server. I shot at the first Sith that noticed our attack and missed the bastard. My second shot hit but it was too late. The officer screamed out an alert through the clouds of smoke. I thought there had been only a dozen soldiers but there were more apparently.

A hiss. The sound of Bastila's lightsaber caused me to flinch as she attacked the dark-masked soldiers. They never even stood a chance. That and with the element of surprise, they were goners. No wonder why some proclaimed that one Jedi was all an army would ever need.

However, despite her infallibility, a grenade would still deal a lot of damage. To anyone really. I mean, she was made of flesh and bone right?

I escaped my daze and shot at the Sith grenadier. But no matter how many shots I landed, the armor rippled like water. Shields. Ignoring the other Sith who were preoccupied with Bastila, I shot a few more blasts in order to get the grenadier's attention. But he was too focused on getting rid of the bigger threat. The Jedi.

"Bastila!" I shouted over the chaos.

The Talravin glanced at me for a split second before returning to the battle. She wasn't giving me any attention and neither was she going to spot the grenade that was lobed towards her. She really was absent-minded, huh?

 _Guess I have no choice_. I ran towards her like an insane man then hit a switch at my belt to turn on my shield. Bastila didn't expect me as I tackled her behind a console. Moments later, the explosion wrecked havoc amongst the remaining Sith. The shield and console did very little to screen us from the blast and we were both thrown into the opposite wall like rag dolls. The last of my pathetic shield shattered into nothing.

The shield had screened both of us from the fire though the force of the impact still hurt like all hells. Something _cracked_ in my back and worried that the explosion had broken my spine or something vital. Fortunately, I could feel my limbs. I groaned then found Bastila who looked just as harried. We both got to our feet. I rubbed dirt off of my forehead with a smirk.

"Guess this means I really saved you now."

She huffed but didn't deign to respond. Rude.

The surviving console, the main motherboard, had only been burnt on the keyboards. Enough for it to function at least. Bastila spoke into the comm and informed Carth and Mission of our success while I began to loot the Sith of any important keycards or identification.

For some reason, T3-M4 rolled in with a sharp _beep_ of pride.

She flicked the comm button again. "Carth, why did you send T3?"

A long sigh was his response. "The kid— _Mission_ says that the droid could open the elevators to higher floors if they linked the server machines together or whatever..." A pause before the soldier addressed Mission. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway...the codes the Mandalorian wants are inaccessible through the main server computers. But, the computer in the governor's office is hidden from the network. It's probably there."

These paranoid Sith. I rubbed my face and was tempted to rip the comm link out of Bastila's hands and give the pilot a piece of my mind.

Fortunately, the Jedi did it for me. "Look, we don't have time, Carth. Is there an easier way to get the codes without risking ourselves further?"

A click. "Without giving this governor a visit? I'm afraid not."

T3-M4 beeped happily again then rolled towards the server and extracted its plug. Astromechs always seemed to want to do things their way despite the apparent danger. As T3 began to work on opening the elevator doors, I pursed my lips at the Jedi.

"Guess we have no choice but to go up."

Might as well get this over with. I pressed the acceptance symbol on the flickering screen as T3 finished his modifications. The elevator on the far side of the room opened and I was the first to enter. I held the door open for T3-M4 who beeped a joy thanks at me. Bastila's hands were growing white from holding her lightsaber too tightly. I raised my eyebrows. Was she actually...afraid? I have seen her angry and maybe even melancholy. Never afraid. I thought this crazy woman had been fearless.

When the elevator door closed, she must have noticed my confusion. "I can sense that something dark is close by."

Now that she says it, a cold wave hung above us like a storm. I gripped my blaster just as tightly as Bastila gripped her weapon and gave the Jedi a weary stare.

"Are you saying...?"

_The Sith?_

"Just stay back and don't get in the way."

"So, run away is what you're saying?"

"Yes."

I knew my own limitations...maybe. That dark Jedi on the Endar Spire hadn't been a pleasant fellow. I had wanted to run then too.

The elevator shook to a stop. I gripped my blaster with both hands; resolved to defend myself from whatever was past that door. Bastila opened the elevator then lit her lightsaber immediately. Another door barred the way. I was reminded of Trask's sacrifice to that Sith on the Endar Spire. A dark force clouded my senses like a fog and I found it hard to breath when close to such a power. My hands had begun shaking and I glared into the back of Bastila's pigtailed head. Could we just...turn around? The codes weren't that important, right?

But the Jedi was determined.

T3 opened the locked door and we were met with a bald man sitting cross-legged in the middle of a spacious room. I flinched when his yellow eyes opened.

"Who dares disturb my meditation?" his voice rumbled.

Bastila held her lightsaber up with a challenge. Should I even threaten this man with my worthless pistol? Actually, should I even pick a fight with the Sith to begin with?

The man stood and brandished his own lightsaber with a wide grin.

"Bastila Shan..." The Jedi flinched when the Sith called her by name. "I wasn't expecting you to give yourself up so easily."

She raised her double-bladed saber into a dangerous stance. All the fear melted away from her face after we stepped through the door. I knew it—she was crazy after all.

"I am not here to give myself up. I'm here for the codes," she said.

Yeah, along with me. I'm still here, unfortunately.

The Sith laughed and the dark Jedi unleashed his red lightsaber. Well, I was fucked. If Bastila went down, I would go down with her. She really hated me, didn't she? Instead of ordering me to stay behind I had to come along with her. Why didn't she bring Carth instead? He was better bait for sure.

Then, the Sith's yellow gaze met mine. That gaze caused me to freeze and a sensation that felt little kinrath spiders crawled all over my skin. That look was not pleasant at all. Please stop looking at me...

His thin lips formed a smile. "Who would have thought another Force adapt could be found on this insignificant planet? I thought all the other Jedi perished—"

Bastila shouted as she used the Force to push at the Sith. The pale man resisted the attack then pounded his blade into Bastila's in a strange dance. I raised my blaster up then down again with hopeless puzzlement. They were moving too fast. I had no guarantee that I wouldn't shoot the Jedi accidentally. Bastila weaved in and out of the dangerous dance like a grandmother's fast knitting and the Sith taunted her with the flicks of his red saber.

"Your 'talent' is no match for the power of the dark side!" he shouted.

Oh, _shut up_.

Instead of listening to Bastila's advice of staying back and not getting in the way (like a sane person would), I made for the computer that had the codes to get us off of this backwater planet. If Bastila was overmatched then at the very least we could have the option to run away.

The astromech driod screeched in alarm and rolled back in forth in a panic. At least T3 was smart enough to stay back. I sure didn't want to be tripping over an astro during a fight. I ignored the sparks in front of me as I slapped the damn machine over and over as it turned on. Why were these computers so damn slow? What type of commandeered Republic base was this? These incompetent—

A force more powerful than the wind shoved me aside like a rag doll into the opposite wall. Wounds I didn't even know I had pained my chest. The Sith had plunged his saber into the wall next to me only missing me due to the Force shoving me away. I gaped.

"You idiot!" Bastila slammed her blade down again only to miss. "I told you to stay back!"

The Sith grinned. I think he saw the obvious weakness in our team. _Me_.

Before I could dive away, two blades locked together a foot above me. The heat warmed my face and the sparks danced above my head like the stars. Through the glare of the beams, the Sith's yellow eyes met mine again.

Without warning, he extinguished his saber and jumped. High. Extremely high—as if there had been no gravity. Ironically, the other side of Bastila's saber descended on me. I think I lost a few hairs when she pulled back.

"Watch it!" I shouted at her.

"If you had _stayed back,_ I wouldn't have had too!"

Before I could argue back, the Jedi was flung onto the wall beside the computer console. Her head collided with the edge of the console and she collapsed in a painful heap. The staff flew into the hands of the Sith who ignited it only meters away. I raised my shaking blaster as I watched Bastila's prone form. Come _on_ , get up!

My heart stopped when the Sith turned to me. This bastard. This good for nothing _kriffing_ bastard.

He chuckled as he twirled the golden blades. "Yes...I can sense your fear. Feed on the hatred and anger within yourself. Call upon the power of the dark side." My pistol was thrown out of my hands like it was a piece of innate plastic. "But even that cannot save you now."

What was I going to do? There was no hope that I could get out of this alive without Bastila's help. Even if I hated to admit it.

As if to mock me, he lifted the blade to my neck. "It's too bad that you were not a Sith yourself. You feel... _powerful_. I would have actually enjoyed this."

The air stirred. My vision blurred. I ducked mere milliseconds before he swiped at me with the double-bladed saber. That first attack must have been a tease for he put all of his power into the next swipe. Somehow, I managed to dodge that as well. And the next one which caused his red lightsaber to skid on the metal walls.

"You cannot run away forever!"

How was I still dodging these attacks? I should be dead by now. I pulled myself onto my feet with computer unit in order to avoid a vertical slash. Fortunately, he had to use each saber one at a time or else he would chop his own arm off. He obviously had no idea how to duel wield.

He swiped the saber low and I was able to jump over it like a rope. Despite avoiding his attacks like I was a fly being swat at, my body was growing heavy with fatigue. I couldn't keep this up for long. Bastila was on her knees when I ducked and crawled under the desk after the lightsaber became stuck in the wall again. Why didn't he just use the Force on me? I would have been dead by now.

Probably because he was still, for some reason, taunting me.

The Sith abandoned Bastila's lightsaber in the wall. Finally, he used the Force on my hiding place and held me still with that power. I struggled, but it was no use. I couldn't move. A red light descended and I closed my eyes. There was no way I was going to dodge _that_. Here I come hell.

There was heat near my face but no burning sensation. I opened my eyes to find the Sith struggling against nothing. His yellow eyes had widened and his saber was shaking as some unknown force held it in place.

He didn't even shout when he was thrown across the room. I jumped to my feet then spotted Bastila as she grabbed her saber staff with a flick of her wrist.

I think she enjoyed gutting him.

* * *

The Tarisian sun reflected its rays off the smooth glass of Kang's "palace" as the early morning annoyed the workman and rose a finger up to the hungover. In any other situation our group would have looked annoyed and hungover. Skyscrapers like that were usually meant for over thousands of people. Rich people. The crime lord could afford to be lavish and pigheaded to hoard that entire thing for himself.

When the Mando pointed out the "mansion" with that description, I rolled my eyes. Carth was miserable beside me as usual and Bastila sat across from me—staring out at the small traffic of this planet.

We met with Canderous at the cantina that morning with intentions of beginning "the plan." Mission didn't come with us since she was exhausted after spending a whole night hacking Sith computers like she was a keyboard. She spent a good few minutes yelling at Carth for making her look like a little kid or something. But, when we made it to the apartment, she collapsed like a sack of spices onto her bed. The little kid was asleep in the other bed and the Wookiee was reclined on the couch with his mess of food.

The place that Canderous flew us to reminded me of Senator landing pads from Coruscant. The pad hovered near the opened side of the skyscraper as Canderous landed the speeder. T3-M4, who was the only one enjoying the ride, beeped disappointingly when Canderous stopped the engines.

The Mando opened the doors of the speeder with a flick of a lever. He approached the entrance of Davik's estate without waiting for us to tag along. Bastila huffed something inaudibly and Carth had a forever shadow hanging over his face. Why was everyone so low? Everyone needed T3's energy. And outlook.

When I stepped onto the metal of the landing pad, I realized why the two were so down. The mental and physical pain caught up to me and my shoulders sank along with my expression. That fight with the Sith required a small dose of kolto that ate up the last of the Jedi's reserves of emergency credits. We were broke and tired following a bloodthirsty Mandalorian into the den of a megalomaniac. We really were desperate.

Once we took the Ebon Hawk and flew away into space, I would be free. That was the only motivation that spurred me to walk after Canderous Ordo.

The three of us plus droid entered the cool speeder bay.

Canderous tapped his foot as we approached. "Unfortunately, Davik isn't awake. And he doesn't like being disturbed."

Though it sounded like he didn't give a damn if we waltzed into his room at all. But we had to play things safe.

With that, we were led out of the speeder bay and into the large foyer. Monster heads with plaques hung across the walls. Kinrath spiders, banthas, _rancors_. I smirked at Carth then pointed a thumb at a beheaded rakghoul. Of course, he didn't respond to that observation and instead slid against the wall without hundreds of alien heads. T3 rolled next to the Jedi then chirped before shutting his red light off. Bastila leaned against a pillar with closed eyes. Probably doing some Jedi thing or other. Hopefully, she wouldn't overhear us.

Carth glared when I sat down next to him.

"What do you want?"

"Just wondering if you had any other paranoid questions for me," I said with a smile. "Seeing as we're about to meet the King of Smugglers."

His hand clenched his thigh and turned his body away.

"Look, I'm too tired to be fighting with you right now. Just forget it alright?"

I peered closer at him but he still stared hard into the ground. He really was trying to avoid me...

"I'm always up for a good fight."

"You know my reasons for not trusting anyone. Especially you." He sat up finally and gave me a hard stare, not one of those wavering ones he liked to give me ever since yesterday afternoon. "You know, I'm not all that surprised that you're a smuggler. Explains a lot."

I lifted an eyebrow.

"Really? Explains what?"

I was innocently curious. Nothing more.

After living in Hoth's tundra for years, Carth unfroze that frown of his and smiled. "Well, you're rather tenacious for one and you have questionable morals. At least, that's what I thought before you rescued the Wookiee and that kid. Then you raced to save Bastila. Which only makes me confused. Whose side are you on exactly?"

I burst out laughing. T3 jumped on again while Bastila opened her eyes to glare at me.

"Are you serious? Do you think everyone in the freaking galaxy is as invested in this war as you are? I'm not _on_ a side. Actually, that's a lie. I'm on _my_ side. It's the only side that matters."

The pilot gaped at me and I wasn't sure why. He wanted the truth, right? So I gave him that harsh reality. There was no point in dancing around the fires with him anymore.

He rubbed the back of his head then chuckled. "Why am I surprised? Fine. I will concede with you on that point if you want. But still, it's a bit odd that you—a _smuggler—_ was added to the roster last minute for some unknown reason and also happened to survive the crash."

"You'd rather I didn't? You could have left me to burn if you wanted to."

He scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You've more then proved yourself after rescuing Bastila. We wouldn't even be here if you didn't work with the Mandalorian. But..."

"But what?"

He searched the monster heads—appearing as if he didn't know what he wanted to say.

"It's just—why would the Jedi even care about a Republic criminal like you? Why would they bring you with them on this mission?"

I think I was supposed to be offended. Other then that, Carth was right. It was strange that the Jedi, not the Republic, dragged me onto the ship for no other reason except that I spoke many languages. So far, I've only had to understand Shyriiwook, Twi'leki, Rodian, and Huttese. Those weren't languages that any other scout or Jedi could understand.

My forehead creased. Bastila stood by the pillar—peacefully ignorant to our conversation. What was she hiding? And what had this supposed "mission" even been before it was foiled by the Sith? What was the point?

Great. I was starting to think like Carth. Not a good thing.

I glared. "Should asking these paranoid questions matter right now?"

He grew red. "Of course it matters. It always matters. And I'm not being paranoid. You being here is one big coincidence. But, since I don't believe in coincidences—"

Bastila opened her eyes then marched towards us.

Here we go...

"We have to hurry. I sense—"

However, before she could tell us what that was, the door opened. A gray-haired, purple-armored man stepped past the threshold.

Davik Kang.

"Well, well, well. The rider who won the big swoop race. Canderous has been talking so much about you. Very impressive...especially the battle afterward."

I smiled at Bastila who looked...afraid? What now? T3-M4 beeped awake and rolled to Bastila's side. Hopefully Davik wouldn't ask any questions about that astro droid that looked strangely similar to the same droid he ordered months ago.

Carth and I flinched when a familiar figure stepped into the foyer with Davik. Calo Nord—that psychopathic bounty hunter. Since I couldn't see his eyes, I had no idea what sort of look he was giving us in return. I'm pretty sure he recognized Carth since I had been wearing that Sith armor before.

He sniffed before addressing the Mando. "I didn't know you went soft, Canderous. I thought you didn't want partners. Didn't you say you could take the Vulkar's base on your own? What happened to that?"

Canderous sneered. "Shut your mouth, Calo."

Davik waved. "Enough, enough. Please, no fighting. I don't want my two best men killing each other." The crime boss glanced around before giving Carth and Bastila a look. "So, is he is your bodyguard? Ah, and is this your prize? Why don't you have her chained up?"

The Jedi crossed her arms then glared at Davik.

"I am not a—!"

Before she said anything stupid, I covered her mouth with a smile.

"Heh, heh, no worries here! She's compliant around me. I have that charm you know. Women can't resist me."

The Jedi rolled her eyes as the crime lord nodded. "Yes, I understand. Too many of my more... _intimate_ slaves don't need the motivation of restraining collars to do their work. If you know what I mean."

I smiled crookedly towards Bastila and her eyes were completely mortified. When Davik left I released her mouth, wiping my hand on my pants, my cheeks hurting from the wide smile I was giving her.

She walked past me, out of character as an "intimate slave" under my orders.

The crime lord led us into the "throne room" of his palace. Davik talked on and on. I wouldn't be surprised if he liked the sound of his own voice. With grand waves of his hand, he mentioned how great working with the Exchange was. Since I already worked for them before, I knew most of what he mentioned was utter bullshit. I mean...fairly treated staff? Large payments? If that was true, I would be living on Alderaan feasting on nerf steak while being waited on by sexy Twi'leks. Not stuck here on Taris with an annoying chastised Jedi and her paranoid soldier.

So far, the Jedi seemed to not like the idea of being treated like a prize. I had to walk past her twice in order to continue the ruse. She would have sucked as a smuggler. My look in her direction didn't seem to communicate that same message despite her abilities to _read my mind_ previously.

"And here are your quarters." We stopped in some desolate hallway not far from the "Throne Room." Why did he have a throne room? Davik continued. "Until your background check is complete, you cannot leave this hall under pain of death. There are a few slaves at the end of the hall to attend to your needs until then. What do you say? You like what you see?"

And I would have had to been stupid to say no. After giving the crime lord my answer, both he and Calo Nord left. However, before the bounty hunter left the hall, he gave me a lingering look.

Was there something on my face?

But, like an antisocial teenager, Calo Nord twirled away without a word.

I opened the door to our room and Canderous led us inside. T3 rolled past me and into the room, making himself at home.

"We're in. Finally. Davik talks for too long."

Bastila looked pissed. Was she still upset about the slave thing? Did she want us to be caught or something? Fortunately, she calmed when she collapsed on the tan couch, looking out the window into the sunrise. Instead she looked afraid again as if something was about to happen.

"We don't have much time..." she said.

I wondered what she was looking at before I saw the Sith fleet. They were still horrifying to look at but...something was different. Something...dark. I scrunched my eyebrows as I peered out and glanced behind me towards the Jedi.

"What?"

She met my gaze. "I can feel...intense rage. Malak wants to destroy. All of it."

Carth shook his head in disbelief.

"Just like Telos."

 _Shit_. They were going to bomb Taris? _Why?_ There were some Sith still on the ground! My gaze misted as I stepped away from the window. I rubbed my forehead as another headache cropped up. Bastila rushed the Mandalorian.

"We need to go. _Now_."

Canderous held up his hands.

"Now, now. We can't rush on a feeling. Davik has guards posted all throughout the manse. We have to wait until lunch break before we can strike. The less amount of people we run into, the better chance we have of getting the Hawk's codes and escaping alive."

"Do you think this is a game?" The Jedi stepped closer to the Mandalorian. "Malak could attack now and all of it would be for nothing."

"Sure, but if we rush in there then all we're going to do is alert Davik that we're trying to steal his ship. Once he finds out, he'll change the codes and we'll have no chance of escaping _ever_."

I raised my hands, trying to placate them. "Okay, okay...so, we wait. What do we do in the meantime?"

Canderous smirked.

* * *

I have been waiting too long for this moment.

Gone were my tense muscles and lingering fatigue. Gone were the aches that I acquired in my upper back and lower ribs. Gone was the stress of having a Jedi breathing down my neck.

Well...almost.

"What are you doing?"

A voice shrilled above me that sounded a lot like one of my inner consciousnesses. The one that was boring _._

The Twi'lek stopped massaging my shoulders. I frowned then lifted my head to glare at the Jedi's interruption.

"What does it look like?"

The Jedi crossed her arms, huffing.

"How typically male. You do realize that we have more important things to do. _"_

I yawned. _"_ It's lunch break already?"

" _No_ , but—"

"Then why are you bothering me?"

I went to lay back down but the annoying brunette Jedi stepped into my field of view. "After you went galloping off with Canderous, we've been wondering where you've been for the past hour now. For all we knew, you could have died."

I smirked as I stretched my neck in new ways it never has before.

 _"_ So, you missed me?"

The Jedi slapped the massage table. "Do you even realize how much trouble we are in? And getting a _massage_ when the situation is life and death—"

"And a bath. That was pretty relaxing too. You want to take one? We have an hour left."

The Jedi was like an uncapped rocket about to burst. Since the Twi'lek wasn't returning to the relaxing treatment, I rose from the massage bed. As I rolled my shoulders, Bastila's face went red as she stared at my naked chest. A smirk grew on my face as she stormed away without another quip.

How typically female.

After thanking the Twi'lek, I dressed then left the warm massage parlor. Bastila stood next to the door tapping a rushed foot. Red lingered on her face as I shoved a jacket sleeve over my arm.

Canderous was still getting a relaxing treatment and I suddenly grew jealous that he didn't have some nagging Jedi on his ass.

Carth rose his brow at me when I sauntered out. "Come on, I like a massage as much as the next guy, but we are not exactly on vacation here."

I shrugging my now tender shoulders. "We could die today. Better to go relaxed and pleased then stressed and tired."

The pilot rubbed his forehead.

"You know, what was I expecting you to say?"

"Words of wisdom that could improve your dull existence?"

"That's exactly what I thought you were going to say..."

Bastila was still staring at me with those gray eyes of hers. I ogled back and she huffed in response then marched past us with long strides.

"Someone get Canderous. We need to go," she ordered.

Wonder why she didn't storm in on him like she did for me? I decided not to tease the Jedi for once. We had a ship to steal after all.

After Carth beckoned for Canderous, the Mando stomped out of the massage room while cracking his neck.

"Don't tell my wife about this. She already has enough reasons to kill me."

I raised my eyebrows.

_Wife?_

I didn't have time to ask him to elaborate when the Mando left down the hall towards our room.

It was not lunch break yet despite Bastila's impatience. We had another hour of waiting in fear and anticipation. Spinning my lucky coin around on the table soon became as interesting as a white-collared executive from Corellia. I longed for the massage that Bastila took from me. At least there I could ignore this impending feeling of doom. I also longed for my Pazaak deck. We could have played a few rounds to kill time. Not for money of course since all of us were broke.

T3 had shut off and Bastila steamed in the corner. Did I ruin her Jedi abstinence with a single look? Meanwhile, Carth was the drowsy house feline and watched the window. His eyes never left the dark dots of the Sith fleet. Canderous paced the room nervously.

Finally. Lunchbreak. A buzz pierced the comms in the room, indicating that it was time to go to the mess halls. We had no idea what to do next except the Mandalorian. Of course.

"Getting in will be easy," Canderous said. "Trying to avoid tripping security won't be. Once we enter the hanger, we will have no other option but to make a run for it. I assume all of you have weapons?"

The fifth pistol I've had this week. The Mando nodded his head when Carth and Bastila eyed their own hidden weapons. "If what you said about the Sith fleet is true, then they'll be bombing Taris soon. We'll need to hurry and get to the Ebon Hawk before Davik gets his hands on it."

Truly, a cruel way to describe the future destruction of billions.

Ordo opened the room doors. The hall was always silent except for the few cleaning droids swept by. We left our boredom prison and rushed down the hallways with soft feet. I could tell Bastila wanted to sprint instead. Honestly, I wanted to do the same. I was tired of Taris, I wanted to see the vacuums of space once again. I was born to travel the galaxy, to be free amongst the stars.

Ugh...that almost sounded poetic. My brain went soft along with the massage treatment. I guess that was the only negative side effect.

The hanger was just past the "Throne Room" and through another hallway. Using T3, we were going to hack and dispose of the Hawk's shields and climb aboard, flying away into space. Just saying it made the task sound so easy but believe me, it was nothing but.

A few blaster shots after minutes of walking around the dubbed "forbidden zone" and we were caught by lounging Rodian and human Exchange workers. Fortunately, none of them had a comm in hand. They wouldn't have been able to use one anyway since Canderous was so quick with that heavy weapon of his. Bastila threw one of the men like flimsy plastic into live electric circuits. I didn't even move to attack, that was how capable these two were. Carth sighed while shoving his blasters back into their holsters.

The "Throne Room" was suspiciously empty. The next hall had either two incapable interns in crime or the janitors. Either way, they didn't stand a chance against Canderous who didn't even give the Jedi the opportunity to use her Force powers.

This was... _too_ easy.

_I have a bad feeling about this._


	11. Ebon Hawk: Chaos

I used to have a ship. The Tabula Rasa. The Rasa was a scavenged Republic hammerhead—an old model from the Exar Khun wars. There I served as captain underneath the woman that owned said ship. With her death, I took over. As we ran through the halls of Davik's Estate, I couldn't place the name of the woman that raised me as a smuggler. I couldn't believe it. She had been like a mother to me. How could I just forget?

A brush on my shoulder and I awoke from my reverie.

"Stop daydreaming. We're trying to escape here," Carth hissed.

We arrived at a locked door that led to the torture chambers—I mean "guest" chambers. Canderous mentioned that the pilot of the Ebon Hawk had skimmed some spices on the last flight he took. Now that pilot suffered under droid tortures. That was a little extreme—it wasn't as if there was a lack of spice what with all the smugglers out and about. Maybe on Taris though now that I think about it. They've been blockaded...what, three times already?

Carth stared pointedly at me then to the locked door. Right. I was the "rogue" in our little group after all.

After I sliced into the door, Bastila drew her lightsaber then ignited one of the blades. Two dark torture droids shot at us with stun blasters and the Jedi deflected them away with ease. The things were stuck on the ceiling so they had no hope of surviving the heat from Bastila's lightsaber.

Canderous peered in after the firefight and approached the computer. Beside the module, a poor man slumped in a cage in a fetal position. The Mando switched off the system. In response, the man muttered nonsense words.

The Mando grabbed the poor man by the collar and shoved him against the wall.

"Tell us the codes to open the shields guarding the Ebon Hawk or I will cut you open here and now."

"Please...don't hurt me!"

"I'm going to have to if you don't give us the codes."

Bastila somehow shoved the brutal Mandalorian aside. "Ignore him." The poor pilot almost tipped over, yet the Jedi grabbed him by the shoulders so that he wouldn't fall over in pain again. She sighed. "Please give us the codes before the Sith—"

An explosion accompanied a distant boom.

The walls surrounding us vibrated and the glass of the windows split. I stepped away from the door to the chambers and faced those windows. Far in the distance, fire and smoke filled the skies. T-They were really bombing the planet? My mouth dried. We didn't have time before the fleet was on top of us.

I stomped towards the prisoner and shoved Bastila aside. I pushed my blaster into the man's face.

"Give us the codes or I swear I will cave your head in."

"A-Alright! I wasn't going to say no..."

After the spice addicted pilot punched the codes into T3-M4, he sprinted down the hall towards the hangers. Great, he was probably going to warn Davik. Thankfully, the Mandalorian pointed his repeating rifle at the pilot. _No loose ends._ After he took care of that problem, we followed after the Mando, making sure to avoid the debris already starting to litter the ground.

"Was that really necessary?" Bastila shouted.

Canderous scoffed. "If you want to get out of here alive, then yes!"

T3-M4 stopped at another door—this one required advanced authentication. "Hurry up toaster!" I shouted as the halls vibrated again. T3 beeped a nervous response. I really wanted to kick the damn thing for taking so long.

Carth had the face of a soldier during battle. Canderous had the face of a bloodthirsty psycho. I wasn't sure what expression I preferred but it sure wasn't calm. For Bastila, she was always angry by default but this time fear had crossed her face.

Finally, the door hissed open. We were met with a deep red sky and harsh winds. It was like the atmosphere above us was bleeding as the Sith ships sent laser bombs and chemical waste onto the surface. Fortunately, our apartment was further North. We still had a few spare minutes to get Mission and the others.

Davik's ships sat vigil in the hanger but only one mattered. The only one that had shield pillars surrounding it. The Ebon Hawk—a Dynamic-class freighter marked white with a red stripe. It looked fast—much faster than the Rasa. The computer beside the shields glowed blue and flickered as the sparks of fire rained down near it.

Unfortunately, two had beaten us there.

"What do you mean you don't know the codes, Calo? You've flown this ship before!"

The bounty hunter. Calo Nord, had a scowl deeper than any Nar Shaddaa alleyway.

"You sent the pilot to the guest room, Davik, not me."

The crime lord looked like he wanted to shoot the control panel before he caught sight of us. He raised his blaster rifle.

"Look at what we have here? Thieves in the hanger."

I raised my blaster in response. "Don't pretend you aren't one yourself, Davik," I said.

 _Boom_.

The hanger shook violently and the lights flickered. The Sith were close enough to make a direct hit on Davik's Estate. Everyone baulked when the lasers hit the fragile skyscraper. The metal beams of the hanger screeched as they tried to hold up the collapsing floors above.

Calo snorted. "I knew you were going to betray us someday, Canderous."

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, _pal."_

The bounty hunter smirked at me. "How ironic that you've decided to team up with _him_ though."

"Save your breath, Calo. You won't have much left when I kill you," the Mando shouted.

Another shot from the Sith yet...this one was precise. So precise that it missed the shields surrounding the Ebon Hawk and hit Davik Kang.

So ended the great crime lord Davik. How...anticlimactic. Fate was out to get him apparently.

Calo Nord rolled away from the debris that was now Davik Kang towards the other ships. He then began to shoot at us with his thin pistols. I cursed when the shot almost hit me and dove beside one of the Ebon Hawk's shield pillars. I tried to get a good shot at him but, unfortunately, the building shook too much for any of my hits to be precise. Canderous and Carth had the same success as I at hitting the bounty hunter while Bastila reflected the blaster shots.

Eventually, I came out of cover when I noticed Bastila's deflections in order to get a clear shot. And I was able to hit his arm squarely. I almost made the killing shot too. But, that's when Calo Nord rushed to the shields by the Hawk and raised a hand. A detonator flickering in the red lights in the gloved hand. An explosion like that would rip clean through a shield of any kind.

He wheezed. "Kill me and no one gets the Hawk."

This man was crazy. I eyed Bastila and gave her the signal to use the Force on his ass, but she didn't see my expression. Instead, she extinguished our only protection.

Fine. I'll do it myself. I aimed for Calo's hand. If I could just get closer and—

Another rumble from above. The Sith shot out another laser. The light was blinding as the skyscrapers were consumed in eternal fire. T3 screeched in horror and I held my hand up to my face to shield myself from the rays. A few unprotected ships were destroyed in the hanger. In the skies, people trying to escape Taris were disintegrated by the damn automatic turrets.

"Wes!" Carth shouted.

More screeching from above. The roof! Kriff! Metal from the hanger ceiling collapsed onto Calo Nord. His detonator had been thrown to the wayside. I took a few steps back but it wasn't enough. It went off, taking the rest of the metal wall. Towards _me._

A strong force pull me away when the wall collapsed. Another flash in my peripheral vision and I was dragged to the ground. White pain exploded in my leg and gray hollow eyes observed me. She was like an angel of death. It was mesmerizing yet...terrifying. The red world around me slowed to a halt as if the flames could freeze time itself.

 _I was dying_. _Suffocating. Pain._

I tried to sit up but that's when I realized what was wrong. Part of the beam had trapped my left leg. The shimmer of the Ebon Hawk's shield flickering off drew my eyes away from the worried group above me. Bastila tried to move the beam off my leg along with Carth. But it was useless. Pointless. I was trapped, dead, and these two dumb-asses were trying to save me.

"Idiots." I pounded the floor. "Get out, both of you, before the Ebon Hawk is torn to pieces!"

I don't even know why I shouted those words. Mad ravings of the dying. I liked my life after all. But still, I would hate myself if Bastila and Carth died for me.

_I didn't deserve it._

For some reason, my pleas for them to run only strengthened the Jedi's resolve. Carth, meanwhile, stopped his rescue attempts.

"He's right. We need to go. _Now_ ," he said. "You're the only hope the Republic has, Bastila."

You know, I'm so glad that Carth found me so important to this mission that it wouldn't take him a second to ponder leaving me behind. Knew the damn soldier hated me.

The ground shook. We only had a few minutes before the Sith fleet disintegrated our asses. I held my breath. Prepared to die. I definitely did not like the prospect, but what was I supposed to do?

_I knew my good fortune would catch up to me eventually._

At least, that was true. Until...

The Jedi sat beside me in a meditative like pose. Then, the air grew warm—the good warm, as if I was beside a crackling fireplace instead of an untamed blaze. Carth shouted at the Jedi for this out-of-character reckless maneuver.

But then the beam _moved_.

The pressure from the weight of the beam lifted and the energy in the air focused on pushing it away from me. It clattered to the ground and I was free.

Amazing.

"Come on we have to go!" Canderous shouted by the Ebon Hawk's ramp.

Carth pulled me to my feet and I winced as he dragged me after Bastila. Fortunately, the pilot didn't seem concerned about my pain, because as soon as we entered the ship the half of the room we'd been standing on collapsed. If I had been slower, both of us would have died.

I didn't get the chance to observe the ship as we rushed to the bridge. A speeder...a med bay...a few rooms with beds and a bathroom. My lifeline, Carth, released me once we arrived at the bridge. I hissed while I leaned against the wall. My bloody damaged limb could not hold me up for long so I slid to the floor. Bastila shot me a concerned look but Carth was all business. He pushed the Mandalorian away from pilot's seat and started the Hawk's engines.

"Hold on!"

The Hawk shot into the sky and we all shifted when Carth pulled back on the thrusters. I hissed again in pain. No, pain wasn't a big deal; not when we still had friends on the ground.

I shouted at Carth. "To the apartments!"

He didn't even hesitate. "On it!"

Canderous faced me. "Are you serious? We have to leave now. Screw them."

Bastila held onto the wall of the Ebon Hawk with one hand—a comm in another.

"We're coming, Mission. Hold on."

Mission's frightened voice crackled on the other side.

"It's getting crazy down here! Be careful when you arrive. Everyone will try to climb on board with us."

Taris was a damaged ship and the rescue pod named the Ebon Hawk only had enough room for the "special" passengers. _The flames. The screams. Soldiers fell, dead, in the mud. I ran, and ran, but I couldn't outrun the Mandalorian hoards. My mother. Dead. My father. Dead too. Too many—_

I hadn't thought about that day in years, but the attack on Taris forced that mental wound to resurface.

_Focus, Wes._

The Ebon Hawk shook after it was struck. The shield flickered and cracked. Fortunately, we were able to avoid most of the debris. Carth weaved around falling skyscrapers like they were asteroids, proving to all of us he really was the best pilot in the Navy. Canderous still had that smirk on his face as if the destruction of billions was a riot. Bastila hurriedly typed something at the control panel. Probably the codes to let us off this rock.

A few stray red lasers hit the Ebon Hawk. That's when I heard it. A million screams. Only it was impossible to hear people screaming from here. They were pleading for mercy. Some of them held dead children in their arms. Some jumped from the burning buildings. Most were crushed. Silenced. Disintegrated.

How could these Sith do this to a planet? To any planet?

The images were...painful. I squeezed my injured leg in order to get them out of my mind. To focus on the here and now. But they were still clear as day. Every explosion followed with the screams. Eventually, squeezing my leg wasn't enough. The pain from the destruction of this planet was greater than that. Sweat coursed down my forehead as I closed my eyes.

_A dream. It was only a dream._

A presence caused me to open my eyes again. The Jedi knelt before me.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

I tried to process her question, but it was impossible. What in all hells was she doing? She had to help Carth!

"Does it look like I'm alright?" I shouted over the explosions.

Another laser beam hit the Hawk. Carth cursed as the shields flickered. We were getting close to our apartment. Almost out of this hellscape...

Bastila sunk lower. "No...you don't."

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, helping Carth with getting us out of here?" She ignored that comment as she slid closer to my leg. I lashed out when she touched the crushed thing that it was now. "Don't _touch_ it," I hissed through my teeth.

"You will have to be on your feet helping us soon."

Canderous shook his head, probably at our continued insanity, then stomped past T3.

My next words were filled with pain. "Why did you save me anyway? You could have died if the whole Force thing didn't work out."

But the Jedi didn't answer my incoherent questions. Instead, T3-M4 rolled up to Bastila and produced...a med pack? Where did he get one of those? The strange droid beeped when Bastila took the med pack, rolling back towards...oh. The med bay. I took in a sharp breath when the Jedi wrapped the bandage around my crushed leg. Would I ever be able to walk on the damn thing again? It sure felt like I wouldn't.

The Ebon Hawk slowed to a hover.

The kolto stuck easily onto my bloody leg and I was able to stand with Bastila's help. Outside the windows beneath the Hawk, people ran to the ships that were left by the Sith and to the elevators. The only crazy ones to remain near a burning skyscraper never mind strolling around on one of the balconies were Mission, Zaalbar, and the kid.

The pain in my leg began to numb, however, I wouldn't be able to help a seven foot Wookiee never mind a frightened little boy. So, Bastila and Canderous helped the three on board while I took the copilot's seat. I glanced over the unfamiliar coordinates Bastila had typed earlier along with the codes. Carth concentrated on hovering the ship by the apartment complex. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he eyed the oncoming fire.

While they were busy rescuing our team, a few figures rushed out of the apartment complex.

They were Upper City dwellers. Most of them were aliens and all of them spotted us rescuing Zaalbar, Mission, and the kid. A laser beam rocked the apartment and all of them—every single one—vaporized into nothing. And the screams followed.

A green light blinked, signaling that the hanger doors had closed. Carth give the controls a smirk.

"Hold on!"

The Ebon Hawk glided up into the atmosphere through explosions and fire wakes. Once the gravity wells switched on, Bastila marched into the bridge. I stood in order for her to take the reigns as copilot.

The Sith fleet pointed all of their weapons at the planet so none of those dangerous blasts hit us directly. Bastila turned on all of the Hawk's space systems with a flick. We were soon in space, rocketing past the automatic turrets towards the system's star.

Out of all the smuggling heists and getaways, I have never been this close to death. And I have been close to death before.

The Sith fleet was still close—close enough to notice that someone was getting away.

"Shit..." Carth cursed then swerving the Hawk.

Hundreds of small fighters rushed towards us. I blanched at the reaction Malak had to us leaving. We couldn't fend off hundreds of fighters. We were not an army!

_Celebrated too early._

I limped away, and Bastila called after me. The ship had a confusing layout and wasn't like a normal Republic ship. The halls twisted on each other and I had to stop when the ship rumbled.

Some of the fighters catching up to us.

I finally found them, the Ebon Hawk's turrets. Might as well fight them till the end.

When I climbed in, after cursing my damn leg to Hoth's frozen tundra, the comm at the panel buzzed.

"You are insane," Carth shouted. He cursed when one of the fighters hit our ship. I pulled the triggers out and multiple lights and glowing sights followed the moving fighters. I haven't used a turret since...well, actually, I've _never_ used a turret gun in my life.

Many firsts I suppose.

I gripped the triggers with a smirk. "You don't need to tell me twice."

The turret began to twist around; the gun had a tracking system installed. How advanced was this Ebon Hawk anyway?

I pulled the triggers multiple times and missed the fighters by a hair. They hit the Hawk's shields in retaliation and I sucked in pained breath.

The Hyperdrive needed to warm up for a few minutes before we could jump. I had to fend off these annoying bugs until then. When the autotargeting failed again, I gripped the triggers hard. Turning the turret manually, I faced the dying planet. The thin line that had been Taris' skyscrapers had become a row of flames. I almost didn't react when a fighter began shooting directly at the turret ports.

But, he ended up directly in my line of sight. And he became a trash compactor's lunch.

Despite the victory, I didn't rejoice. Five of them replaced the one. I swung the triggers around to follow the path of the annoying fighters then winced when I felt the pain in my leg again. Without the aid of the stupid autotargeting system, I shot at the fighters. Two more joined the first and fell to the destroyed planet below.

"We're ready to jump!" Bastila shouted through the comm.

We were escaping. We actually did it. We did the impossible.

However, I couldn't celebrate with them. The last of the fighters shot a volley at the Hawk. The force of the tremor and the hyperspace jump shook the turrets so much that I released my hold on the triggers.

My head smashed into the metal—

* * *

 _A tall figure with metal encasing his chin stood before me. The room was dark yet I could see this tall man clear as day. His yellow eyes smiled. His laugh reverberated through the metal that replaced his chin. He was more machine than man—_ _programmed to continue the chaos._

_"You're alive."_

* * *

I awoke with a start. A white room—the Ebon Hawk's med bay. Florescent lights blinked—possibly due to the beating we took from being attacked by the Sith. A small amount of weight moved beside me. The dark haired boy snoozed at my side and frowned after I moved. I lifted my head in order to get a better look at my surroundings.

A figure walked by the med bay. Bastila leaned in the door frame with raised eyebrows.

"You're up? Good."

I rubbed the back of my head only to feel the cold sensation of kolto gel. This was, what, the third time this week my head has gone through abuse? No wonder why I was going insane with these visions.

This little boy stirred then lifted his head like it weighed a ton. When he saw that I was up he jumped at me.

"Mar'e!" he shouted.

He spoke Mando'a too? Who was this kid and how many damn languages did he know?

I waved a hand. "Yes, yes, I'm alright. You didn't have to worry."

He began to speak in another language that I didn't understand. Had this boy been raised with a combination of many dialects or was he doing this on purpose? Bastila was giving the boy a strange look as well. I pursed my lips as I ignored the boy and crossed my arms.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

She crossed her arms. "Dantooine. There is a hidden Jedi refuge that we can hide out in until the Sith leave the Outer Rim. We were...heading there before the Endar Spire had been destroyed."

I narrowed my eyes. This Jedi still wanted to do her little "mission" for some reason. Well, I wasn't going to do it. Not after witnessing Taris' destruction. This wasn't what I signed up for. And, honestly? I would have preferred a cell. Of course, I was free unless Carth or Bastila put cuffs on me. But I doubted they would after I saved their necks. Multiple times.

I stretched and smiled at the prospect of freedom. My left leg was still numb from the pain relievers.

"I guess that will be where we part ways then. It's been nice knowing you but I have better things to be doing then risking my life. You understand."

Her raised look told me otherwise.

"There is still your strange connection with the Force."

That again? True, events had been _strange_ as of late, and I was able to do things that were considered "impossible," but that didn't make me a Jedi. Whatever Bastila planned to say, I wasn't going to hear it.

She must have seen the defiance on my face, so she sat at my bedside like a parent reassuring a little kid that it was just a nightmare. I gave her a hooded look that I reserved for her.

"You sensed Taris, didn't you? I could tell. It wasn't just your leg that pained you back there."

I gritted my teeth. The screams from the dying echoed in my mind.

I whispered to myself without thinking.

"How did you know that?"

"So you did?"

Kriff, she was learning...

I flung my feet over the side of the bed only to be reminded why I was injured in the first place. There were more wrappings around my left leg. The salty smell of kolto almost made me want to vomit. We really needed a proper medical droid? I doubted T3 knew the necessary programs—well, I would have to fix that later now, wouldn't I?

No, not that it mattered since I was _leaving_ the second we landed on Datooine. And no one was going to stop me. Not even a damn Sith fleet.

Bastila crossed her arms and challenged me with her eyes. I sneered.

"So what?" I asked. "Schizophrenics also hear voices."

I'd rather be crazy.

She sighed. "You will have to see the Jedi Council on Datooine then. An adult this strong in the Force is...abnormal."

_Lovely._

I used the bed as support when standing. The Jedi took a step closer with worry on her face. Yes, my damn leg hurt. No, I didn't need anyone's help. Especially not some Jedi that was trying to convince me to join her little cult.

The little boy shot up and trotted after me. I grabbed a crutch that popped out conveniently from the med bay wall then limped down the hall.

Bastila followed me when I entered the main foyer of the Ebon Hawk. A holoprojector sat in the middle with flashing blue lights. The Mandalorian sat by the projector, tapping his fingers on the glass.

When I passed, Canderous sat up with a smirk. "Nice display there, Wessy. You might want to check what's behind you next time."

Kriff...that nickname was spreading like wildfire.

I laughed—with sarcasm—and limped to go to...I had no idea. The ship was a maze. The halls would be fine I guess...if the Jedi wasn't still stalking me.

"Stop following me."

Why wouldn't she just take my answer as is? Didn't the Jedi not accept adult trainees anyway?

"Haven't you asked yourself why you were able to do all the things you were able to do on Taris? Aren't you at all...curious?"

Well, maybe I was. But before that dangerous thought could take hold, I twisted around then pointed into her chest with my right hand.

"No, actually. I'd rather return to the Outer Rim while avoiding the Sith in my _own_ ship in the middle of nowhere. _Alone_." I turned back around. "Now, excuse me, but I would like some peace and quiet without some nosy Jedi-prick stalking me. I still have to figure out how many credits I need to get the next ship transport—"

Something like wind tripped me and I fell flat on my face. My leg was not spared and I had to suck in breath in order not to shout a curse at this stupid woman. 

"What was that for!" I shouted at her.

"For being a selfish nerf herder. And to stop you from walking away again."

I wasn't sure if the Jedi would approve of the Force being used for such nefarious purposes.

"Well, now I'm crawling away. Thanks a lot."

Instead of crawling, I tried to stand only to find another hand helping me up. Kriff...why was she trying to _help_ me when she was the one who used her damn powers to trip me in the first place?

She held my arm tight. "You are only making things difficult for yourself. You've seen what you were able to do. What you've felt. What if you hurt someone by accident someday? Would you want that on your conscious?"

"Well, I was going to _avoid_ people for the most part."

Bastila still hadn't released my arm.

"And what are you going to do when the Sith take over the galaxy? _N_ _othing_?"

Now that she mentioned it, sitting around the Outer Rim with no one around sounded very depressing. And lonely. I was a man of adventure, not one to sit around playing Pazaak all day. I... just couldn't justify risking my life for these people anymore. Billions of people died today. And the chin-masked man. The Sith. I didn't want to think about it.

I shook the Jedi's hand away.

"Why not? Better than dying."

And she didn't bother following me again.

Good riddance.

I limped around the Ebon Hawk. The little boy had crawled away somewhere else. I was left to my own thoughts.

Some part of me—that part that was insane—screamed at me for not taking Bastila's offer. For being a _coward._ This was the same part that convinced me to ride in a swoop race of all things.

The other part of me—the more sane part—congratulated me on fending off the Jedi. Why would I fight some battle I had no stake in? Foolish people died for causes.

I was about to head for the dorms before I heard small sniffles. I stopped then listened for the sound. It was coming from one of the small rooms. I arrived at said room.

Mission had collapsed over her bed—crying into the sheets. I didn't know what to think after seeing the poor teenager like that—that same Mission who always smiled and pranced around the Lower City without fear. Despite professing that she wasn't a kid, her fast maturity damaged her soul.

She sat up after hearing the clacks of my crutch. She wiped her eyes of tears but I had already seen them.

"Go away," she snapped.

I pursed my lips. "If you want me to..."

Before I could leave, the Twi'lek shot to her feet.

"Why did this have to happen?" She shook her head. "Zaedra...Gadon...they're dead! All of them! Because of _her_. If Bastila had never been on Taris—!"

"The Sith were the ones to drag the Endar Spire to Taris in the first place." I limped closer to the teenager. "I don't think...you should blame Bastila for that."

Funny. Because I blamed that Jedi for everything happening to me right now.

Mission's face softened. She wiped a stubborn tear from her face then sighed. Her shoulders sank along with her anger when I said those words. She sat on her bed while holding her head. No kid should see the destruction of her own planet.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Wessy. It's just...I was raised on Taris. It was my only home ever. My brother brought me there when I was little. I thought that by following you, I could find him again. Instead, I escaped from my own planet and lost everything."

I raised my eyebrows, "Wait, you have a brother?"

I never saw him anywhere around Taris. I'm pretty sure blue Twi'leks were a rare bunch.

She nodded her head, sniffing.

"His name is Griff. You've been around the galaxy, right? And you're a smuggler? Have you seen Griff anywhere? Anywhere at all?"

Whoa, wait. Why did she assume that I would know this Griff? Was he a con too?

I shook my head. "Sorry." She deflated. Worried that she might start crying again, I rushed to speak. "But that's normal for me. I don't really stick around for too long."

I pissed around in the cantinas drunk. Doubt I would remember anyone, even a blue Twi'lek. Mission sighed before leaning back, looking off into space.

"It's all because of that bitch Lena. If she didn't take my brother away...well." She paused. "I probably wouldn't have met you guys and escaped."

I didn't really know what to say about that. To be honest, I didn't want to become emotionally attached to any of these people. Because I was going to leave. I didn't know most of my crew before they all exploded. For good reason. If any of them talked to me as a person—or thought of me as a friend—I wouldn't have been able to space them when they inevitably betrayed me.

_Yeah, that really worked out for you in the end, didn't it, Wes? When they betrayed you._

Damn it.

I sat next to her, my leg had begun to throb.

"You know what I say?" I began. "These 'what-if's' don't matter. But the here and now? That matters. " What, was I trying to convince myself? "Actually, you remind me of myself, kid. I went through a similar situation when I was young."

Her sad eyed looked up at me. "What happened?"

_No emotional attachments. Remember that, Wes._

That had been my sane side. But for the sake of this kid...

"My home planet, Deralia, was taken over by the Mandalorians long before the Republic even bothered getting involved. It's been...twenty years? Twenty-two? Anyways, you aren't alone. That's what I'm trying to say. And what matters..."

Is the Sith. They destroyed a whole planet rendering a strong girl like Mission Vao crying. All those billions of people, dead. I've been running for years. Jumping from planet to planet like a coward. Maybe I should stop running?

It was that insane side again. And that side wanted vengeance.

"What matters now is that Malak pays for what he did." Mission watched as I grabbed my crutch then limped away. I made sure Mission heard as I added. "Oh, and you still owe me credits. That matters too."

* * *

I spun in a chair in the Ebon Hawk's engine room, bored to death. We would be making planet fall in an hour. Meanwhile I could either listen to Canderous go on about the Mandalorian Wars like an old man or listen to Zaalbar's silence. Hanging around either Bastila and Carth wasn't an option.

So, I was stuck with the kid.

"Guess I should have asked you before. What's your name?"

He looked up at me and tilted his head.

"I am Wes. _Wes_ get it?" I pointed to him. "And you are?"

He didn't answer.

I leaned back with a huff. "Have you understood us at all? Nod your head if you have."

He didn't nod his head.

Great, a little boy that didn't even understand Galactic Basic had decided to follow me around. I was not in the mood to teach him. I guess the only thing I could do about that was for me to learn...whatever he knew.

So I started with Mando'a. He knew some words. Perhaps he knew more?

" _What is your calling-_ er _-name?_ " I asked in shaky Mando'a.

Okay, don't shoot me. I don't speak other languages often.

The boy smiled and jumped up like a tach.

"Liam," he said.

Well, that was a start. Liam smiled wide—probably relieved that I could understand him. I know that I would. Maybe he soaked in some basic words surrounded by all those alien slaves. That was how I learned after all, out in the field, submerged in the languages. Maybe eventually he will learn Basic enough to speak fluently. He was young after all.

I leaned forward and bent closer to his eye level.

" _Where are you from? How did you come to Taris_?"

He tilted his head, trying to listen to what I said probably.

" _Taris...you are?_ "

So, he wasn't fluent in Mando'a either? Kriff...at least be consistent! What sort of brain did this child have? From here it looked all messed up and uncontrolled. That first language he spoke was unknown to me so I couldn't communicate with him in that so I had to deal with Mando'a.

" _Where was your...home?_ " I asked, struggling with the word myself.

His eyes brightened.

" _Home_? _Are we going home?"_

I sighed. This conversation was more frustrating than normal when dealing with children. Liam sounded like a Basic name, not Mandalorian or Rodian or anything weird. Which meant his parents had to have been normal citizens of the Republic. Or not. Either way, he had been taken from them long ago, otherwise he would have wanted me to bring his parents with him. He had been in Brejik's slave pens, so maybe his parents owed a debt. In that case, his parents were probably long dead.

Yet, there was something about this kid that made him...different. He didn't cry when Taris was destroyed. Didn't cry at _all_ actually. For a kid, that was unusual.

I decided to try one last time.

" _What planet were you born?_ "

He nodded his head.

" _Malachor."_

My head jerked when I heard the name of that planet, twisting myself to give the kid a closer look.

 _What_?

How the hell was that even possible? That planet had been destroyed...by _Revan_. He didn't even look old enough to be four or five. That placed his birth around the end of the Mandalorian Wars. _After_ the planet had been decimated. I may have avoided all contact with the greater galaxy, but I didn't ignore current events. I had to be up-to-date else I would risk running into something terrible, like Mandalorians or Sith, after all.

Perhaps he misunderstood my question again. Still, why would this kid even mention a planet like that?

"A-Are you sure?" But he didn't understand since I asked him in Basic. I shook my head again. " _And how did you get captured? Where are your parents?"_

He frowned. " _Capture? Ship. I ran from home, see? Parents...I have don't._ "

Yeah, communicating further would get us nowhere. So, I grabbed my crutch and stood. Liam gave me a confused look as I limped out of the engine room heading towards the cockpit. That child...he was the strangest out of all of these people. Including myself.

I limped to the bridge with intentions of asking the "are we there yet?" question to the two Republic fiends. Bastila leaned in the copilot seat making herself sick staring out into hyperspace. She didn't look up when I clacked in so I assumed she didn't want to be bothered.

Carth, on the other hand, still looked tense even after we escaped Taris. The random beeps coming from the controls distracted me long enough before the pilot gave me the time of day. He turned in his chair. I limped to the Star Map and eyed Dantooine and its coordinates. We were about an hour away. And I was bored. Bored enough to poke the rancor. I approached the Jedi and tapped her chair.

"Rise and shine."

Bastila stirred from her reverie to glare up at me. I smiled back at her.

Carth sat forward in his chair—trying to appear more relaxed then he was. He gave me a look again. "What do you want?"

I turned and narrowed my eyes at his posturing.

"Can't I walk around wherever I damn well please?"

"This isn't your ship."

I smiled. "It was Davik's last I checked. And he's _dead._ "

"This ship wasn't Davik's _last I checked_." Carth crossed his arms. "He stole it from the Republic. There are military codes here and everything."

Bastila groaned as if our voices had been broken wine bottles then sank deeper her copilot chair.

"We are almost to Dantooine. Can you please not fight until we get there?"

Carth swiveled in order to face the Battle Meditator. He was going to ask his annoying questions again. Wonderful.

"Why are we even going to Dantooine in the first place? Why would we hang around a Jedi Enclave when there is still a war to be fought?"

The Jedi leaned forward and held her forehead in a way that I had once done. This pilot created headaches as if his own voice was a docking horn. At least he wasn't interrogating me this time.

"Because, _Carth_ , the Sith could ambush us again. We need to lay low."

The pilot huffed. "Alright, but what about your mission—you know, the one you took over my ship for? Why were we even jumping around the Outer Rim like that in the first place? And to end up at Taris? A Sith controlled planet? Sure, if Malak's fleet hadn't been there, we could have jumped out in time. But we shouldn't have _ever_ risked that kind of maneuver without prior knowledge of the Sith's movements. And don't lie to me and say that the Admiral ordered to attack the Sith. If we _were_ attacking Malak's fleet, we'd take more than the one command ship."

Bastila sighed. "But we _did_ have prior knowledge of the Sith's movements. Or at least we thought we did. Only a week before we left Coruscant, Malak's fleet had been devastated. Neither the Council or the Admiral believed they would regain strength so quickly _and_ do so at a world like Taris."

"The Mandalorians never stopped attacking even after they were weakened. What is the difference?"

Great. Now they were talking politics and strategies. My _favorite_ subject. I leaned against the wall with a sneer. Thankfully, I was the perfect wallflower who wasn't participating in a debate. For once.

"The difference, Carth," Bastila began, "is that the Mandalorians never regained their numbers like this so quickly. And even though the Republic had more troops, the Mandalorians fought a war of attrition."

"Yes, and we wouldn't have had to fight a war of attrition if the Jedi helped us from the beginning. But we can't always get what we want."

The Jedi huffed. "And all of those Jedi would have joined Revan and Malak at the end of that war. Where would we be then?"

"Would they have been corrupted in the first place if the Council had supported them instead of dragging their feet?"

Bastila's face looked like a red Chando pepper. "Do not blame Revan's corruption on the Council! Your Republic saw only the threat of the Mandalorians, but the wisdom of the Masters saw beyond the immediate threat."

 _Wisdom?_ "What did they see?" I finally interjected. This was the first I heard of this.

Bastila addressed me. "There was something lurking out there, something that devoured Revan and Malak—and many other Jedi. Had the Council sent us all into the unknown, how many more would have fallen?"

Ah, so they saw nothing. Just a vague _something_. But I didn't want to get into a political argument with the Jedi. I had enough arguments.

Carth interjected instead. "So, you're saying we should have done nothing? Just let the Mandalorians conquer us unopposed? I mean, the Republic was under attack, and the Order abandoned us!

"We did not abandon you! But the Council were not about to throw lives away foolishly. In time, we would have aided you against the Mandalorians. But you couldn't wait. Revan and Malak offered a quicker answer, and the Republic chose to walk the easy path rather than the path of wisdom. Now we see the results all around us." She met my eyes briefly before she continued. "If Revan had only listened to the Council, millions of innocent people would still be alive."

"Yeah, right. And every single one of them would be speaking Mandalorian." Even Carth was beginning to grow tired of this discussion. Honestly, so was I and I was barely participating. "Look, that isn't the point," he said. "The point is that you took the Endar Spire away from the war effort for some vague mission. Because of that, countless lives were lost."

The young Jedi found something interesting in the corner and ignored the pilot's accusations. The pilot glanced towards me and I tried to ignore him by looking in the same spot that Bastila was. Try to look inconspicuous...breath like a flower. He twisted in his seat in order to get a better look at me.

"And what about Gale?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't get _me_ into this..."

"You've always been a part of this. Don't think that I just forgot about your little smuggler, Bastila."

If Bastila had been a Paaerduag, both of her heads would have looked at us with expressions of shock. I would have crossed my arms if I had the one free. After all, I was curious as to why I had to be with the Jedi on the Endar Spire and not some other ship. Unless all of this really was just a coincidence.

Her face returned to its stoic nature. "Because we were heading out to the Outer Rim, we needed more people with knowledge of exotic languages. Even though Gale has a...questionable past, we didn't have time to find someone with the appropriate—"

"Bullshit," Carth snapped.

Bastila sighed. "Then I don't know what to say, Carth. Believe me or don't."

Carth laughed sardonically once before settling back down in his pilot's seat. He didn't look like he wanted to fight anymore.

"Fine. We'll do things your way. For now. But don't think that I will just up and forget about this. Because I _won't_."

I looked between them before groaning with frustration. Kriff, and I thought my fights with the Jedi were bad. They both looked at me curiously. I decided not to answer their unasked question and limped out, ready to take a short rest before we arrived on Dantooine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some changes to Bastila/Carth's fight to fill some plot holes.


	12. Dantooine: The Enclave

The Ebon Hawk flew low over endless plains and rolling grasses. The sun was setting when we arrived at the golden fields. Birds and other critters flew out of bushes and cliffs. Small settlements dotted about the flatlands—all farming communities that looked as if they were barely scrapping by. A boring yet peaceful planet. I'd never been, and that said a lot because I went to nowhere planets. The Exchange saw no profit in the planet, Czerka saw no credits in the planet, and the Republic saw no use for the planet.

Except for the Jedi.

I yawned after being awakened by Carth shouting at all of us in the comm to get to the bridge to prepare to land. Awakened being the closest term. Un-vegetating might have been closer. It felt as if hadn't had a decent night's sleep in _y_ _ears_. Despite being confident in my decision to avoid the Jedi, I was worried about what would happen once we landed.

In the distance, a large campus by a lakeside entered the viewport. Carth twisted the Hawk around towards the docking ports at the very edge of the enclave. The place was larger than I'd imagined a Jedi enclave to be. Figures walked along the lakeside, flashes of lightsabers reflected from within, and at least twenty small courtyards spread over the land, all encircled by steel walls. _Sort of like a prison._ I smirked at that dark thought.

After the Ebon Hawk landed, the pilot shut off the engine with a flick. His forehead was creased—probably still hated this idea of a "mission" here. I unbuckled, then grabbed my crutch. The kolto was working to get rid of the pain, but my leg was by all means still crushed. Hopefully the thing would heal in a week. And by then, I'm leaving on the next shuttle to who-gives-a-kriff.

As we all walked into the garage, Canderous approached my side. "Is there any reason why we've stopped?"

I shrugged a response while Bastila pressed a switch to open the ramp of the Hawk. Canderous returned to working on the speeder in the Hawk's garage while Zaalbar and Liam followed behind us. Mission had gone off somewhere as soon as the Hawk landed. I eyed the Wookiee a silent question.

Zaalbar growled. "Mission wants to be left alone for now. She's...still upset over Taris."

Right. A kid couldn't just get over the murders of billions in one day. At least she wasn't pointing fingers at us anymore.

I caught Bastila's gaze before the incline opened to the ground. I raised an eyebrow at her but her gaze didn't linger. She stomped down the ramp and didn't call back like we were her lackeys expecting to follow her every move. And, unfortunately, we did.

The air was fresher than any I had ever breathed before. It reminded me a lot of Deralia—clean air, open skies, no traffic. Peace. Funny that. A few droids floated around the Hawk and performed quick maintenance scans. All of them blinked red and some beeped in alarm. The ship was a mere reflection of our current mental and physical state. Other than the droids, only two figures were at our port, barely hidden in the afternoon shade.

One was a strange imp looking creature that I've never seen before. He (or she?) was at most a foot tall. He clasped his three-fingered hands together in front of his tiny chest. Another, an older dark-skinned human, watched us with stern, wise eyes.

When we all left the Hawk's ramp, Bastila bowed to both of the strangers, first to the imp then to the older man.

"Master Vandar. Master Dorak. It's good to see both of you."

The imp creature—named Vandar—smiled at the Jedi. "And you as well Bastila. We have heard about what happened to Taris. The Force cried out, and we feared the worse for you and..."

His big eyes flicked towards those of us who stood behind Bastila. Carth straightened while the Wookiee and kid didn't react at all to being addressed. I didn't even have the energy to give them a look back. I wanted to go back to sleep, eat something, then maybe get my leg checked out by a medical professional. Funny how my mind drifted to the mundane when we were standing in front of two powerful Jedi Masters.

There was an uncomfortable silence. It took me a moment to realize that it was quiet because the two masters were staring at me. For some reason, their stares sent chills down my spine. Oh, no, they didn't "sense the Force" in me, did they? I gave them a glare back. Couldn't they see that I was an exhausted mess and not Jedi material?

The other master, Dorak, turned back to Bastila. "You have a lot to explain. We would like for you to debrief the Council over what transpired at Taris and discuss your mission—"

And that was Carth's favorite word now. "What mission are you guys even talking about?" he asked.

Vandar gave Onasi a sympathized look. "We understand why you ask, Commander Onasi, but this business is between Bastila and the Jedi Council. You have to understand that the fate of the galaxy is at stake."

Sounded like excuses. The Jedi really liked those. And it wasn't just Carth who had the paranoid bug.

"You sure you guys don't want to share this mission with us? We almost died for this 'fate of the galaxy,'" I said, waving at Bastila. She glared at me. "It's the least we deserve."

Master Dorak sighed. His eyes never met mine when he gave a single-syllable response.

"No."

_Pfft...well then._

"Okay, fine. You three go on and do your little secretive Jedi stuff or whatever. I'll be where the food is."

Not that it mattered to them where I was going. Doubt I'd see them again. I limped past Bastila and avoided her stare. She better keep quiet about my "Force sensitivity." Something told me that was an impossible wish. As I limped, the Jedi's stares followed me—I could feel the disgust rolling off of them like herder steak and fry grease.

Yeah, I better stop before I found myself delectable.

Before I could leave, Dorak waved to a protocol droid. "Direct our friends to the mess hall. There should still be some food left over from dinner."

The droid responded with an affirmative then staggered past me. Zaalbar pounced at the mention of food. Liam and Carth looked as starved as I was. I gave this Dorak a nod in thanks. Because I would have gotten myself lost in this place.

The enclave was surrounded by metal walls with occasional durasteel windows that gave a nice view of the lakeside. The droid led us down the halls through many courtyards. Gardens overflowing with flowers from many different planets grew in all of those courtyards. Small children passed us and gave Liam a look that he returned with shyness. The Jedi of this academy were of the younger sort. A few teenagers and young adults gave the strangers curious looks as if we were artifacts in a Coruscant museum.

When we got to the mess hall, the droid bowed then left with a small shuffle. The hall was empty of people—only a few cleaning droids. Zaalbar rushed to the buffet and grabbed anything his claws landed on while I warned him to leave at least some for us. Fortunately, he wasn't that selfish and left half of what was left over.

I collapsed on the bench beside Carth who had taken very little food compared to me. I'd filled my entire tray with fruit and vegetables—no meat unfortunately. All of that was cold by now. At least the fruit was crisp and filling. At this point I didn't even care what food tasted like. The Gamorreans could have fed me rancor crap and I wouldn't have even minded. Well, maybe.

The soldier sighed then leaned forward onto the table. I picked out a few fruits for the kid and handed them to him. Liam chewed softly and stared into space.

The darkened wall was covered with the glow of the sunset.

"I wonder what they're talking about," I mumbled, taking a bite of my apple.

"I don't know, but I don't like it. What do they have to hide?"

I shrugged. "Plenty. If everyone knew how Battle Meditation worked then the Sith could learn how to block it."

"They probably _aren't_ talking about that."

Well, true, I suppose. No one really knew what Jedi liked to talk about anyway. The group was mysterious and aloof for a reason—to avoid their ever feared dark side.

My hand shook as I finished my fruit and threw the core onto the tray. No, what was I worried about? I was going to leave Dantooine as soon as my leg healed. Mission, Zaalbar, and the kid might follow me but Bastila and Carth? I wasn't so sure. But I was certain that that the Mando was going to leave as soon as possible. He had some slaughtering to do after all.

We finished our dinner under the hour. Before I could ask the droid where we could rest for the night, I was stopped by Carth again.

"Where will you be heading after this?" he asked me. "The Republic is still in need of 'talented' soldiers like you."

I was shocked. Carth was trying to recruit me? I laughed while eyeing the Wookiee who was eating like a cleaning droid.

"Sorry, but I'm leaving for the Outer Rim. I was forced to become a soldier in the first place."

Carth's smile turned sad. "Knew you would say that."

"So...you're not going to arrest me?"

He shrugged. "You had an _...unfortunate_ accident _._ Didn't make it off Taris. Oh, well."

A soft smile crossed my features. Don't know why him of all people saying that made me feel better about all of this.

"Where will you be heading off to, Orangy? Back to the Navy?"

"I'm stuck here until the Sith clear the Outer Rim. I really don't want to be caught by them again. Until then, I'll be contacting the fleet to inform them about the details of Taris."

We were left standing there in awkward silence. It was like a goodbye but...not.

Liam jumped from his seat and gave me a proud look. He probably hasn't eaten this well before in his life. That thought made me wish that I could kill Brejik ten times over for what he did.

As I approached the droid to get directions, Carth spoke over my shoulder. "What about the Jedi? Those two were giving you odd looks when we exited the Hawk. Do they want you for something?"

I grimaced. "If they want something from me then they'll be sorely disappointed."

"But why would they want you? What is this all about?"

"You think I wouldn't tell you if I already knew the answer to that?"

Carth gave me a look.

"Yes. I am betting that you wouldn't tell me. You've hid things from me before."

The droid bowed its head and led us through the darkening enclave again. Liam followed along with the Wookiee who had brought his plate with him. How much could that stomach hold anyway?

Carth was still glaring at me. I smiled in return. "Life is better when there are some mysteries still left in it. You call it _hiding._ I call it being interesting."

"But if that mystery causes billions of people to die...then we have a problem."

"See, there's your problem, Orangy. You're a pessimist. You'll see womp rats around every corner if you look hard enough."

"Ah, and you're a shining example of optimism then?"

I smirked back at Carth while stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets.

"Who said I was an optimist?"

One of the droids turned to address me. It wanted me to go one way—the rest of them would follow another droid. Odd, but I was too tired to question it. I left Carth behind with those words. That may have been our goodbye. Or not.

The sun set as the droid led me through the Enclave. The moons of Dantooine covered half of the sky and the winds stirred my hair over my shoulders. Dark clouds rumbled in the distance. A storm was coming. The bugs in the gardens were restless with their croaks and yawns. That and I was tired. Oh so very tired.

So tired that I didn't notice where I was going.

A Jedi walking in the opposite direction as I paused before I almost crashed into her. She was with another Jedi—this one a young Cathar. The older Jedi crossed her arms and a stern expression crossed her wrinkled features.

"What are you doing?" She grabbed a fistful of my jacket. "Why are you not wearing your Jedi robes, Padawan?"

I shoved her hand away from me and winced at my injured leg.

"I'm not a Jedi _or_ a Padawan. That's why."

The old woman blinked, confused, before her eyes widened. She took a full step back and away as if I was a kinrath spider. The young Cathar raised her eyebrows.

"Master Quatra, is everything alright?" the Cathar asked.

Quatra rushed past me as if nothing happened between us. The younger Jedi bowed a quick apology before she followed her master with feline-like steps. I scratched my head. I guess it wasn't just Bastila. These Jedi were a bunch of weirdos.

The droid had waited patiently for me while I had that odd exchange and began to head towards the dorms when I resumed to walk.

Eventually the droid stopped before a room in some dark corner. The door opened with a hiss and I was relieved to see any bed no matter how uncomfortable it looked. When I entered the small interior, the door slammed closed. I swear I heard something lock, but I was probably hallucinating due to the lack of sleep. I dropped my crutch and didn't bother to take off my jacket as I collapsed face down onto the hard mattress.

Sleep, stress, and fatigue faded into dreams.

* * *

_"I guess this is goodbye."_

_Dantooine's port reflected orange with the sunset. A girl smiled at him. But he knew the smile was false._

_Guilt._ _"You'll pass your trials soon. I know—"_

_"Oh, shut up you." She bashed his chest with the back of her hand. "Don't worry about me."_

_The shuttle glowed with energy._ _Dantooine's evening sky painted orange._ _Space. The unknown. It was terrifying. A frown tugged his face._

 _"Don't look so sad, womp rat." She teased him with that name after he'd fallen in the mud too many times. "You still have_ him _after all."_

I pouted. "Squint's not—"

* * *

Something shook my shoulder. My eyes were heavy and for once they refused to open. I was actually having a nice dream even though I'd forgotten what it had been about. So, like most of my dreams.

I shoved the hand off of my shoulder with a groan like a spoiled teenager.

"Go away..."

"Get up."

I peered past my arm and spotted Bastila standing over me. I sat up with a start and gazed out the window with a frown. The pounding rain masked the foggy darkness of the night.

"What do you want?" I rubbed my face. It almost felt like I was drunk. "What time is it?"

"2100."

 _2100_? That was so early. When did I fall asleep?

I glared at the Jedi. She was soaked from the rain outside. Her hair stuck to her face. Overall, she looked miserable. Good. She should know better than to climb into someone's room like a thief or kidnapper. Did these Jedi even have boundaries?

Sleep. Rather do that then listen to her talk.

I laid down only for the Jedi to huff in response.

"The Council has requested your presence at this time. This is an honor that few are ever given. Now...get _up_."

She shoved me again but it wasn't needed. What Bastila had said caused me to shoot awake.

The Jedi _Council_ wanted to see me?

I narrowed my eyes. "What do they want me for?"

"You don't know?" She crossed her arms. "I told the Council about your strong affinity with the Force. They want to evaluate you."

Kriff. I didn't want to see the Jedi. I made a promise to myself not to. But the way Bastila spoke sounded like this was urgent. I didn't want her to get in trouble with her Council. She had saved my life after all. _Perhaps_ I owed her one.

And I was awake anyway. I couldn't go back to sleep knowing the Jedi Council had something to say to me. Curiosity killed the Cathar and all that.

I stood and shook my jacket into place.

"This better be good."

Bastila swiveled around and I grabbed my crutch in order to limp after her. When we stepped out of the dorms, the rain pounded onto us. Bastila was wearing a new Jedi robe so she pulled her hood up. Meanwhile, I was left to the cold briny weather of Dantooine. Should have brought an umbrella.

The courtyards were eerie without the many Jedi walking around. Occasionally, a droid shuffled through the halls, but it was as if everyone was hiding from the world.

I decided to fill the silence. My voice echoed in the hall with the rain.

"And this couldn't wait till morning?"

Bastila's tired voice replied. "The Council has debated for hours. They won't make a decision until they've seen you for themselves."

I stopped. "Debated? For hours? Over _what_?"

She stopped with me. The rain pattering was my only reply before she began to walk again. Chills ran up my spine. The type of chill that didn't come from the rain outside.

This was a trap. First, Bastila mentioned that I should see the Council because of my Force powers or whatever. And now they were demanding to see me? It didn't help that they were taking advantage of my tired mental state.

We finally arrived at the largest building of the enclave—the Jedi Temple. The doors swished open as we approached then closed after we entered. In the lobby, I squeezed the rain from my poor jacket and shook my hair as dry as it could get. The rain roared above like an angry crowd as Bastila led me past the lobby into the main foyer of the Temple.

The domed ceiling was made of glass, more than likely to let the light inside, but instead the windows cried with the storm. Four Jedi sat in a semi-circle on a raised dais. I recognized the two from before but not the others—a pale red Twi'lek and a wrinkled old man. The silence from those four could be cut by hair strands. They stared at us with steel while Bastila led me further inside the hall. I wished that they had offered us seats as well but I don't think I would have taken the offer, even with my bad leg.

The Jedi stared at me like I was a rare species from Kashyyyk.

Eventually, thankfully, the Twi'lek spoke.

"So, you are who Bastila was speaking of. I am Master Zhar." The Twi'lek nodded to the old man and the rest. "With me are Master Vrook, Master Vandar, and the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak."

Okay.

_Enough._

I stormed to Bastila's side so that I could whisper angrily into her ear.

"So, you've drawn me into a little trap. Are you proud of yourself?"

She glared at me. "You are in front of the Council. Behave."

Well, now that gave me an excuse to do the exact opposite of that. I glared at the Twi’lek.

"What the hell do you want?"

Master Vrook, the old man, had a frown ever imprinted on forehead. He leaned in to better glare at me.

"Maybe we were too quick to judge. He isn't suited for Jedi training."

Thanks for ignoring my question, _pal_.

I stuttered. "Wait... _Jedi training_?"

Master Zhar leaned back as he continued to study me. "What Bastila Shan has told us seems to be true. We didn't even need to see him to feel it. Should we even risk letting him go?"

I was still utterly speechless.

"What are...what are you even talking about _?_ "

I gave Bastila an eye over my shoulder but she didn't meet my gaze. Hadn't she said she wasn't even sure about my Force sensitivity? They seemed sure of something.

Vrook narrowed his eyes at the Twi'lek. "You speak out of turn, Master Zhar." He finally addressed me. "We are unsure if you are strong in the Force at all. In fact, that is why you are here now. So that we can test to see if you are truly Force sensitive."

I noticed Bastila's confusion. I was not looking forward to this test. Whatever it was, I was going to fail it on purpose.

The imp that I met before—Master Vandar—nodded his tiny head.

"It is only natural to doubt, Master Vrook."

Bastila took a step forward. "Doubts? Why would there be _any_?" She waved her hand at me, something people liked to do now I guess. "The Force is strong in him. I've told you about what happened on Taris. He's used the Force countless times, the swoop bike race among others, and he sensed the destruction on Taris. There is no need for a test."

Finally, Master Dorak nodded. "What Bastila says is true. He is strong in the Force. But is it a faint flicker? Or a dangerous tidal wave?"

Vrook pursed his old lips. He pointed a crude finger at me.

"Not strong enough and he will never be strong enough. We made sure—"

"Master Vrook," Vandar interrupted. "Temper your fear. You cannot deny the truth of the matter. There is no doubt."

I coughed. Loudly.

The entire room of people stared at me when that cough reverberated with the rain patters.

"Kinda hard to make a decision while talking _around_ your subject."

Vrook pah-ed then sat back. He waved a hand at me.

"Look, he already displays arrogance. And you expect to actually train him in the ways of the Force?"

How was that _arrogant_? Them ignoring me was arrogant!

Vrook turned his attention back to the Jedi Masters. "Perhaps it was simple luck."

You know...that was exactly what I was hoping for it to be before. But now that I think about it, were all of those happenings simple coincidences? The lightsaber, the race, the dark Jedi battle, the screams. The dreams. The longer I believed that it was all dumb luck, the more unpractical those beliefs became.

Zhar shook his head, his lekku bouncing. "There is no such thing as luck. There is only the Force."

Vrook looked back at the other Jedi Master. "Even so, if we decided to train this one, he will eventually fall, guaranteed. It is hard to train a child, why should we even attempt to train an adult?"

I sneered while leaning more on my crutch. They had so much faith in me. Was it because I used to be a smuggler or something?

"Look...I'm not quite sure I heard right about this whole 'training to be a Jedi' thing—"

Master Vandar interrupted me. "We have no choice, Master Lamar. With each passing day Malak and the Sith grow in strength. Eventually they will overpower us with sheer numbers. And with Revan dead..."

Vrook stood violently. "Who is to say that Revan is truly dead? What if he—"

Vandar also stood from his seat in order to grab this Vrook's attention. His big eyes were filled with...regret? I had no idea what they were talking about. After all, they were having this discussion as if I didn't exist.

Vrook stopped running his mouth then eyed the imp.

"There won't be another Revan. Not again. We will discuss this later, Master Vrook. For now..." He eyed me carefully. "Your name is Wesley Gale, is that correct?"

I could feel myself growing red when he called me that. At least they were finally speaking to me directly.

"I'd be happy with just _Wes_ , Jedi Master," I said. "If you wouldn't mind."

Vrook huffed out of earshot though I heard him and moved my eyes to glare back at him. I wondered why I took such great offense to him. Was he like that for everyone or was it just me?

Vandar nodded his small head then waddled towards me. I eyed him curiously as he held out his hand...and my crutch rushed to him. I wavered off balance and sneered in pain.

"What the—!"

I shook but I didn't fall. My leg hurt of course but I still had the balance to keep myself upright. I wasn't sure if that was normal. Wouldn't the crushing pain cause me to tumble to the ground?

Vandar smiled up at me. "You don't need this, do you?" He placed the crutch onto the floor then crossed his tiny arms. "The Force can suppress pain if used correctly. You were using this technique instinctively. Anyone else with wounds like yours wouldn't have been able to walk around our enclave—crutch included."

"..."

Was he serious?

"Though, this power seems to come and go like strong, impenetrable winds. Tears in the Force itself." He turned around to eye Vrook. "If it is not controlled, it will tear down the galaxy. Do you think we could risk that?"

Kind of an overstatement. Doubt I could do anything of the sort. And it still hurt, damn it. If you wanted to use me as an example then tell me before you go ripping my crutch away.

Finally, Master Dorak spoke. "I feel as if we need more time to think about this...strange phenomenon."

"I agree. Tomorrow we will discuss further...and decide what to do with the information we have been given," Vandar replied.

The imp lifted the crutch with the Force again and handed it back delicately, smiling earnestly at me. It was hard not to smile back at him. Despite their aloof natures, they really weren't all that bad, right? At least that was what the sane side of my mind believed.

Bastila bowed. "We will sleep for now, Masters."

I nodded, since bowing to these people would be rather awkward, then limped away from the four masters. I could still feel their stares even after we left the hall into the foyer. Another chill shivered through my spine.

She was waiting for me by the door with crossed arms. When she turned to leave, I held out a hand.

"Wait." The door opened. The wind blew into my face and sprinkles of rain pattering the pavement. Lightning flashed, illuminating her figure. A few seconds passed before I spoke. "You really think that I would agree to this? Becoming a _Jedi_?"

She sighed, turning to look out into the rain. "The Council hasn't even decided whether or not they should train you yet."

I limped closer to her, close enough to see the detail in her calm grey eyes. "I have heard a lot about what the Jedi Council wants to do with me, but not once have they asked what I wanted to do." I peered into her eyes. "Do I even get a say in this?"

Bastila pursed her lips as she continued to avoid my stare. Her mouth opened then closed again.

"That is—the Jedi Council is wiser then I. What I say—"

"Oh, just cut out that bantha poodoo. I want to know _your_ opinion, damn it. Not the Council's." I waved out into the rain. "I could run if I wanted to. Take the Ebon Hawk. Go to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Nothing could stop me."

Then, her gray eyes hardened in resolve. "Then why haven't you?" I paused. Before I could think of anything, she continued. "If you wanted to leave, you would have left."

I gaped. "That...that was _before_ I realized that your damn Council wanted to make me a Jedi."

"Is it?" She finally met my gaze. "What the Council said is true. You have a great command of the Force. So great—without proper training it is dangerous. If you become a Jedi then you will have nothing to fear. You will be protected by what is to come."

By breath froze.

"What are you saying?"

"The Sith." She turned away from the rain. "If you think that the Jedi are the only ones who can sense you, you're wrong. That dark Jedi on Taris sensed you without effort. You will be an easy target to Malak and his dark Jedi without training."

That made...sense. Why hadn't I seen it like that before? No matter where I ran, they would find me if I couldn't control this power. I would be a sitting gizka, naively listening to the first Sith that strolls on by and be tortured, just like Carth once said, to their teachings. And I was no Sith. I wouldn't become one of those murderers. They were worse than Mandalorians.

She stepped closer to me. "You're afraid. Believe me, you don't need to fear the Force. Or the Jedi. The Force has come to you for a reason."

I rubbed my head then stared out into the rainy night.

"Who said I was afraid?"

She pulled her hood up.

"There was no need for you to say anything. I've felt it..."

She stepped out into the rain, leaving me stunned behind her.

Because she was right.

I _was_ afraid.

Who woudn't be really? An unknown power manifests itself out of nowhere for no reason and I'm just expected to go along with it? And the Council...they were treating me as if I had been born a Jedi—born to not fear whatever power was within me. They callously disregard my own emotions regarding this. Probably because they preached about having a lack of them in their little code.

Still amazed by Shan's accuracy, I returned to my dorm without getting lost. My bed, unfortunately, was not as comfortable as it had been before.

Bastila was able to see right through me. _Again._ I was getting tired of it. So tired that I began to drift off to sleep.

I soon realized _why_ she was able to read my emotions so clearly.

And it was not good.

Not good at all.


	13. Dantooine: A Bond

It had taken a day to find the ruins. Rain pounded on two figures who each stared down at the muddy ground. They were fuzzy, distorted—only the darkness was clear. The edges of the images were lined with cracks as if I was trying to break through a shell. Or a prison.

One of the figures, a bald tattooed man, frowned at the other. He held his hips and fear etched his face as he watched the ruins. I recognized him from the holonews. _Malak_. The other figure wore dark robes and a Mandalorian red mask. _Revan_. His gaze was unknown and hidden. Yet, I could sense it. His fear. A familiar fear.

Malak shook his head. "This is not a good idea. I already sense the dark side of the Force. What if we find something that we aren't meant to find, Revan?"

Revan opened the ancient door anyway. He peered inside tenderly before walking into the dark ruin and out of the rain. I followed—not out of my own volition. It was as if I was trapped in someone else's body.

Malak followed his Master. Revan's voice echoed in the hall and was distorted by the mask.

"Looks like we've already found it. If we were not meant to be here, I wouldn't have learned about this in the first place," Revan said.

"Still," Malak drifted off. "Is it worth the risk?"

Revan stopped as he studied the inside of the ruins. They were dark, no lights were inside and the grey clouds outside did very little to help me see.

"So many have died already, Alek. If it's to win this war with as little casualties as possible, I'll risk everything." The mask's distortion jittered. "And if we can find the _Star Forge_ then nothing will stop us."

"But we were told as Padawans to beware Sith artifacts. It's forbidden."

Revan chuckled—a deep troubled laugh. "Are you afraid of Sith ghosts meant to scare younglings? Come _on_. We've already defied the Council. Why should we stop there?"

" _Revan_."

But the Dark Lord didn't listen to Malak as he opened the next door. Blue Jedi lightsabers blazed to life and crashed down onto ancient droids. When the smoke cleared within the darkness, they stopped before a great door. Malak held his head as Revan paced with anxiety. At least...that's what I sensed. Doubted a dark Jedi would fear anything never mind these ruins.

I blinked when my eyesight turned red. Darth Malak eyed the door with disdain. The bald man seemed to meet my eyes despite me being a simple observer.

"Once we go through this door...we can never go back."

The dark stone pillar opened and calm blue lights shimmered and reflected off the ancient stones. The light was so brilliant that I turned away. Gray eyes stared deeply into mine. Bastila—w _hat is she doing here—_ stood behind the opened door. Terror marked her face. Terror of my own bled through my mind.

"What—?"

* * *

The first thing I noticed was that I was being rained on.

The second...I was not in bed.

My breaths were short when my eyes shot open. I was covered head to toe in sweat and rain water. My feet had trampled some poor soul's tulips. The Enclave walls rose above me. The rain clattered both against the steel of them and my soaked jacket.

_Force...what was that?_

My head pulsed with pain and I grew lightheaded. Then, as if I had been standing in a tunnel before, the sound of the rain became so clear and heavy that it felt like someone was slapping me again and again. Had I walked here in my sleep? That wasn't like me at all. I limped through the garden towards the mess hall. Perhaps these past few days were finally getting to me. The Jedi shot me strange looks as I passed through the halls. I mean, I did look like a homeless slob.

_Bastila._

In that dream, it was as if she was actually standing there. How was that even possible? Even dream Bastila was beginning to invade my personal space. And out of all the things I _could_ have dreamed of—hot Twi'lek dancers, another massage, or maybe even Deralia—I had to dream about Revan. _Again_. What would psychologists from Coruscant say about me? Probably that I had to be locked up in a mental institute. Or that I had some deep seated desires to kiss a Hutt while parading around in a tramp suit.

And no, I did _not_ have deep seated desires to kiss a Hutt while parading around in a tramp suit.

The mess hall was filled with Jedi eating breakfast. They talked amongst themselves—so quiet despite there being at least thirty crowding the room. I stomped to the food line and grabbed some fruit. As if that could deny what just happened to me. I bumped into someone as I went to leave. That someone happened to be Mission.

"Wessy! Um...good morning. You look like—well—really _unwell_."

I took a quick bite of the Dantooine pear I swiped.

"I'm _fine_. Fine and _dandy_. Why wouldn't I be?"

The Twi'lek frowned, but I didn't give her the chance to respond as I stormed away.

To where? To find Bastila. These dreams were not normal and I needed answers. And, for some reason, I felt like only Bastila would have them.

The rain was actually light. My mind must have made it seem louder than it was. I headed to the North dorm rooms in search of the Jedi before someone called out to me. Carth jogged up with a raised hand.

He hesitated when he saw me. "First Bastila and now you. You look like something happened. Are you alright?"

I snorted. Why would he care? And was that any of his business? I tried to move around but he stopped me with an extend hand on my shoulder. "Wait a sec, where is your crutch?"

Strangely, I wasn't pained by my leg anymore. I still haven't checked myself into the med bay and wouldn't until I got answers. I brushed him away.

"In my room. Where else?"

He stopped me again.

"Wait, just... _hold on_. Bastila told me to find you as soon as you woke up. The Council wants to see you. Immediately. She said that it was urgent."

Wonderful. As if this day couldn't get any worse. If I had to go see the damn Council again in order to find Bastila, it was better than running around like a lunatic. Although, I think I already was a lunatic. I stunk like a Gamorrean hog that bathed in warm mud in Tatooine. The Jedi already thought I was a fool. What would they think if they saw me like this?

The soldier gave me a look. "Why would they want to see you?"

I ignored that question and passed Carth towards the Jedi Temple. He called out to me as I left but I ignored him. I memorized the twists and turns that led me to the Temple from last night. When I arrived, dripping onto the concrete floors of the foyer, voices echoed from the larger hall beyond. I followed those voices into the Council chambers.

The four Masters along with some holo figures peered down at the Jedi before them. Oh, _great_ , so they called the rest of the Council today out of all days. And I hadn't even taken a shower. This will end well.

Bastila was speaking when I entered the hall. None of the Jedi Masters noticed as I stormed towards them.

"—saw me in the dream. It was—"

She stopped in horror when I limped to her side. The Master Jedi that I didn't meet before all narrowed their eyes when they finally saw me beside the Battle Meditator. A pale lady in the holoimage rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of the devil."

Vandar placated the woman—an Echani—with a small hand. "Atris, we've discussed this before."

Besides Atris, there were four other holo Jedi making the total number of Master Jedi present at nine. The Echani woman huffed then crossed her arms. I crossed my own arms and they squeezed from the rain. I was still sopping wet from the outside forces of the planet and was shivering. My hair stuck to my face like Bastila's had.

Master Zhar gave me a look. He sat up in his uncomfortable looking chair. "There has been a most...unusual development. Bastila has claimed that both you and she shared a dream. A vision of the two Sith Lords Revan and Malak here on Dantooine, scouring the ruins in search of something."

Oh, so it was worse than I thought.

Why me? Why couldn't this have happened on a better day? Or maybe to someone _else_?

The holoimage of a bald man with an interesting mustache flickered as he sat back in whatever seat he sat in Coruscant.

"Why would they want to visit these ruins? Did this happen during the Mandalorian Wars? If so, was this the cause of their fall or was it something...else?"

Vrook snorted. "Nothing except their own arrogance and pride was the cause of their fall to the dark side, Zez-Kai."

"Of course, Vrook, but I've been starting to wonder if we were wrong about this. The Exile—"

Vandar tapped a cane that he had—quieting the Council like a gavel.

"We are here to discuss what happened in these two young ones' dream and why they shared such a dream to begin with. We were not called to dwell in the past. That will lead us nowhere—"

"Alright, _alright_! Hold up!"

Everyone turned to stare at me. I hesitated when the entire Council watched me from their high chairs.

Still, I continued. "Am I the only one going crazy here? How the _hell_ did Bastila climb into my dreams? I actually _enjoy_ my own privacy, thank you very much. Sorry if that's a little too much for me to ask."

Bastila stood from her knelt position. She glared at me.

" _Your_ dreams?"

I glared back.

"Who else's?"

She grew red along with the rest of the Council. Before she could retort, an old woman who looked well-respected among these weirdos, spoke with a calm voice.

"I understand why you are confused, young one. It is expected after all—you know nothing of the Force." The old woman leaned forward. "The reason why both you and Bastila have shared a dream is clear. A bond has forged between you."

The Echani, Atris, pointed at the old woman. "You don't know what you're saying, Master Nomi. A Force bond—"

"—takes years to forge, I know...I think everyone here knows."

Except for me. I'm still here. _Hello_?

Nomi continued. "The Force seems to be acting through you as it is Bastila, giving you these visions. This is...not normal."

I exhaled as I looked down. "So, I'm having crazy visions now? Of course that's not normal, damn it!"

Another Jedi, younger but very similar in appearance to Nomi, glared at me. "I do not like his tone. Has he already begun his path to the dark side?"

I frowned when she mentioned the dark side. Which inherently meant the Sith. And I was not like _them_. My caustic remarks notwithstanding. It was all done in jest after all. Don't tell me that these people didn't know how to take a joke?

Vandar stared down at me. "Anyone not trained in the ways of the Jedi would act as such, Master Vima. Let us not place doubt on someone who is ignorant of our ways."

At least this Vandar was understanding.

The final unknown Jedi Master sighed then leaned on her knees.

"We should still tread carefully. We don't know what he could do next."

I cocked an eyebrow. "You know what I want to do next? Go to the nearest cantina and forget this ever happened."

Most of them paused to stare at me. I looked away awkwardly. They really knew how to make a man feel uncomfortable.

Zhar's brow scrunched up. He looked just as stressed as I was. "We know, Master Vash." He addressed me next. "A Force bond is sometimes formed between Master and pupil over years. Rarely does one form between almost complete strangers."

That did sound a bit off. If these bonds took years to create then why was one manifesting itself? I knew next to nothing about Bastila. I couldn't tell them how old she was or her favorite food or hobby. If that's the type of relationship they were talking about.

Vandar frowned. "Whatever dangers you may face in the near future, the Force has called to both of you. What you will face...you may have to face together."

I leaned back to take the pain away from my leg. "What are you even rambling on about?"

The mustache man, Zez-Kai, leaned forward. The holo flickered again. "What Master Vandar is saying is that this bond was forged in order to stop the coming darkness of Malak's Sith army. Together, you and Bastila might be able to stop the collapse of the Republic."

Way to put the fate of the galaxy on my shoulders. Guess I had nothing better to do with my life then risk it in this Sith war. How could _I_ stop Malak? I would have to be an idiot to think that the two of us could defeat the Sith.

Vrook narrowed his eyes. "But don't be tempted by your obvious lusts for glory and power. That can only lead to the dark side."

Whoever said that I _wanted_ power and glory? And there was that warning again. Did he think I was deaf or something? I heard about the damn dark side the first time.

Master Dorak, who had been silent during this discussion, finally sat up.

"And there is still the question. Should we train him in the ways of the Force?"

Nomi smiled sadly at the old man. "I don't think we have much of a choice anymore, Master Dorak. His fate is tied to Bastila's now. The only safe path without hurting her as well would be to train him. If you want to put it to a vote, then put it to a vote. But that would be a waste of our time."

Vandar nodded his head, looking downcast. "I agree. We have no other choice."

All of the Council members agreed until Atris and Vrook remained. As they all agreed to train me in the ways of the Force, I could feel the world collapsing around me. Me, Wes Gale, ex-smuggler, who by all means thought the Jedi were weirdos that liked to meditate like droids, was being forced to join them. And joining the Jedi was a lifetime agreement. A lifetime that I didn't want to throw away.

Now I know why I was so afraid. Forgetting all the wars and political strife that happened around me in a cantina drunk wouldn't be possible anymore. I couldn't take the cowards way out. Not when ignoring this issue would only make things worse.

Finally, after Nomi Sunrider took a few minutes to convince the Echani—Atris agreed to my training.

Which only left Vrook Lamar.

He glared at me. "Learning the ways of the Jedi will be long and difficult. Do you even have the patience?"

I felt myself shaking from what I hope wasn't fear.

"What if I don't want to learn the ways of the Jedi?"

Vima Sunrider interrupted me, her holoimage flickering. "You have little choice in the matter. Your bond with Bastila has forced our decision. Without proper training, you will fall, taking Bastila Shan with you. We cannot allow this to happen."

That didn't mean I had to like it. I rubbed my face again.

Okay...maybe they were right. Maybe the _Jedi Council_ was right. Without training I was going to go _insane_. If these dreams were Force residue...then I had to learn how to control them. At least for some peace of mind. Bastila looked at me with old worried gray eyes.

Becoming a Jedi would be the only way to save her. And the only way to save myself. I had nothing left anyway—not even credits.

"Since I have no choice, fine. I'll do it."

Vandar nodded. "Then we will send both you and Bastila to those ruins once we have deemed you ready."

I crossed my arms. "And we can't just go now? I doubt Malak is just going to wait around for us to swoop in and save the day if we just sit in here twiddling our thumbs."

I could see Atris sneering past the blue of the holoimage.

"Lamar was right. There is no hope for him."

"No, Atris, it is a sensible question," Nomi replied. She gazed levelly at me. "The ancient ruins will be drowned in dark side energies. Without the proper protection you will not be able to avoid the darkness within yourself."

"...within all of us," Vandar added.

Well, that plan fell short. And without their directions I wouldn't be able to find those ruins anyway. So, I was stuck at the Enclave.

Most of the holo Council members took their leave after the decision was made, until only Nomi and Atris were left.

The Echani took one final glare at me. "If you fall then I will kill you myself."

She flickered away with that lovely final statement. She had serious social issues. What did I ever do to her? Or Vrook? All I did was stand here and say a few words. Was that a crime now?

Nomi Sunrider stood. "I will leave who trains him up to you four."

Zhar bowed towards the Jedi Master. "I wish to train him myself. If only..." He smiled then shook his head. "It would be an honor."

Nomi smiled. "I expect to be updated on his progress. For now, I will take my leave."

The holoimage shut off and the room grew quiet with only four Jedi Masters in the hall.

I was supposedly a Jedi now.

Damn it. Just...damn it all.

* * *

I sat in the med bay, eyeing the Jedi healer who was frowning at my leg. There were many fractures, she told me, but since they were Jedi healing broken bones wouldn't be an issue. The healer sent strange energies into my leg then replaced the kolto bandage with a new one. The entire time I hadn't said a word—not one. The Jedi talk about destinies and all that crap, but what if I didn't have a destiny? At all. I would be more happy with that.

I limped out, without a crutch, and decided to sit on the closest bench to stare at the rain. The four master's ordered me to get checked up here but they hadn't exactly told me what to do next. They were my guardians now after all. Had to listen to exactly what they told me to do without going off script.

I sunk deeper into the bench then dug my hands inside my jacket pocket, pulling out my lucky coin. A Mandalorian coin—not a credit or anything like that. I still remember the day I got it. I was being transported around in a Mandalorian freighter. When I was rescued, I took it off the corpse of my kidnappers. It reminded me of what I once was and what I became.

Even now.

I used to enjoy my work as a smuggler. Despite having to run most of the time, along with being shot at often, I was free. But now I was trapped on that Mando freighter again.

The rain let up, a few sprinkles hit my nose and covered the metal coin. I shoved it back into my pocket and stood. I flinched in pain but only just as I limped towards the spaceport. A bad idea—I was still injured despite my own body not realizing it. The young Jedi watched me as I walked passed. This time they marveled instead of gawked at me. I assume that meant word has spread. An adult was training to become a Jedi.

Why couldn't we go to those ruins and get it over with? This dark side, light side thing...was dumb. The galaxy wasn't black and white like that. But, the Jedi seemed convinced. And now I was supposed to be.

There were a few ships beside the Ebon Hawk preparing to lift off. Some were civilian transporters from Coruscant while others brought in goods. The Hawk took up the most space and all of the repair droids swarmed it.

A Twi'lek stood by our ship with a datapad. Canderous looked as if he was going to crack the alien's neck at any time.

"What do you mean it'll cost _20,000_ credits to repair this, you ingrate?" he shouted.

I gaped once I heard that ridiculous price. The Twi'lek tutted in response then looked away from his datapad. One of the repair droids floated up to him with another datapad that he shook his head at as well.

"The Jedi aren't great customers, _M_ _andalorian_. With Czerka putting their grubby little fingers on anything that walks and with this Sith war, how exactly am I going to earn a profit?" He shut his datapad off. "You can pay this off over time of course. I heard all about how this ship escaped Taris. Call it a...Jedi's mercy."

The Mandalorian's face grew darker than it already was. He grabbed the Twi'lek by the collar causing the droids around him to panic. The Mando bent closer to the poor shaking Twi'lek.

"And I call sparing your life a _Jedi's_ mercy."

He dropped the Twi'lek and the droids all relaxing once he did so. I raised an eyebrow in his direction as he stormed towards me.

"I'm surprised you're still here," I said, looking at the Ebon Hawk. "I thought you were going to run off the next chance you got."

The Mando gave me that evil smirk as he walked past me. "Where would I go, pipsqueak?"

"Where does any surviving Mandalorian go but the Outer Rim to pillage poor ships and astromines?"

I quickened my limping in order to match Canderous' pace. He laughed darkly.

"You must be talking about the Fetts. No other clan but theirs would be so cowardly." He scratched his five o'clock shadow. "Where is the cantina?"

I smirked. "I don't think the Jedi like drinking. Emotions and all. You get them."

Even though I was a Jedi now. I had to stop referring to what I was in third person. Wasn't sure how long that was going to take.

He cursed then marched to the Enclave's exit. I hesitated to follow him again.

"Where are you going, by the way?" I asked.

"I'm going to the nearest settlement to find a cantina. I need a drink. Maybe play a few rounds of Pazaak."

My ears perked at the sound of the word "cantina." That's what I'm talking about. A nice couple of drinks, a few rounds of Pazaak, all to melt the stress of this day away. I'm sure these Jedi wouldn't care if I had a little fun before becoming a complete bore, right?

Wrong.

Canderous was quicker than I was due to my bad leg, so I wasn't surprised when the door closed behind him to leave the Enclave. What I was surprised by was the sound of the door locking.

Two sentry droids shuffled up to me with their blank faces. "The Council has ordered for you to remain on the Enclave until further notice. Unless there is an emergency, we cannot let you pass."

_Are you fucking kidding me_? What was this, an actual prison? First it was The Endar Spire, then it was Taris, and now it's this Enclave? All I wanted was a drink!

They didn't trust me. These damn Jedi didn't trust me. Why didn't _anyone_ trust me?

I seethed. "Well, this _is_ an emergency. I want a kriffin' drink you pieces of shit."

The droid on the left beeped. "I'm sorry: a 'kriffin drink you pieces of shit' is not a viable danger."

"It will be if you don't let me leave."

I was a prisoner here just like I was on the Endar Spire. I may be a Jedi now, but I was still a smuggler at heart and these Jedi didn't forget. I was tempted to kick the droid's bolts out with my uninjured leg. Before I could follow through, I was stopped by a raised voice. I turned and winced. Bastila. As if this day couldn't get...oh, right I already said that it couldn't get worse before and it got worse.

"I was looking for you."

Worry was written all over her face as she approached me.

I ignored the Jedi and kicked the droid exactly where a human's balls would be. Unfortunately, I got a nasty shock in return.

" _Kriff!_ "

I hopped back in pain.

Bastila crossed her arms. "What did you expect would happen?"

I glared at her and limped away from the door. I knew that she would follow me eventually, so I continued until I got to the courtyard. The place swarmed with Padawans and Apprentices practicing with sabers and cortosis weave blades. My _peers._ I found a bench and sat it in. A few Masters gave at their young Apprentices a proud smile at their achievements. Master Zhar was going to be my Master now. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Bastila stood by the bench.

"I know that you feel trapped, but it's for your own good. And mine. The Sith—"

"You don't trust me. That's alright. I'm used to it."

"T-That's not—"

" _Look_. I'm not offended. Really. In fact, it's an honor. The Jedi think I'm dangerous. After all, I'm the adult that gained Force powers _and_ bonded with one of their best students overnight. Oh, and we're dreaming about Sith Lords—can't forget that _minor_ detail. Who _wouldn't_ be afraid of me? Heck, I'm afraid of me. So, thanks for the reminder."

Bastila sat next to me. I leaned on the armrest and stared up into the Dantooine sky.

"You're being too hard on yourself. The Force—"

"—works in mysterious ways. Know that one too. Still doesn't convince me that this whole bond thing is okay. I for one don't like you snooping around inside my dreams."

"You think that I _want_ to be bonded with you?" I turned then raised an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms. "Believe me, I certainly don't find the prospect of being joined to you enjoyable in any fashion."

"Well, thanks a lot..." I said, waving a hand, leaving it at that.

She huffed.

"I didn't mean it like—well, you wouldn't believe me anyway. You obviously think I am here just to insult your intelligence. Go on, make your assumptions." I pursed my lips and stared down at my twiddling thumbs. Bastila stuttered on. "I am not...comfortable being connected to another person. Especially a stranger. As a Jedi, well, you know."

I smirked at her. "Know what?"

She stood. "I don't want to explain."

I stood with her. "Go on. _E_ _xplain._ "

"What is there _to_ explain? _S_ _top—_ "

"We could stand here all day until you tell me what you were going to say. And believe me. My leg can withstand the fiercest of storms—"

A blinding pain erupted below my injured calf. I bent over it like it had just fallen off. Her foot returned to the ground after that hard kick. How underhanded!

"Now that was just—!"

But she stormed towards the mess hall where lunch was being prepared. My face turned another shade of red. _K_ _riff_...this woman was a contradiction. For her to have the _audacity_ to hurt an injured man all while pretending to be on some moral high ground. What kind of Jedi was she? Because she wasn't a good one if that was how she acted. The Jedi Council thought their little savior was as light sided as the stars, but she unknowingly _hates_...well, me I guess.

Though lots of people hated me. Probably wasn't a good indicator of ones character...

* * *

"You don't look so well, Wessy. You were muttering 'ow' every time you took a step when you walked in here," Mission observed while holding her chin. "Did something happen?"

Zaalbar growled a similar observation. "You look a little burnt..."

After muttering underneath my breath again, I sat at the mess hall table beside them and released a held breath. I snatched something off of Zaalbar's plate and recieved a Wookiee glare in response.

I sighed. "I was _burnt_ alright."

Carth sat up in the corner of my eye and I looked up from my staring contest with the table.

"I heard from Bastila that you're going to be trained as a Jedi. Is that true?" he asked.

I pursed my lips and chose to look up at the lighting fixtures. One was flickering. Interesting.

Mission tugged on my sleeve. " _Really_? A _Jedi_?" She gasped. "I thought newly initiated Jedi were...younger though."

I narrowed my eyes at that light fixture. "Whatever she said is true unfortunately."

The pilot nodded. "So, that was why you were placed on the Endar Spire. It makes sense now."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Carth eyed me then lifted his fork to finish his meal. When he swallowed, he sighed, probably when he saw that I was still looking towards him expectantly.

"I'm not one hundred percent certain about this—since Bastila didn't give me an answer—but why else would a smuggler like you be thrown in with the Jedi? Because they knew you were Force sensitive at the start."

Really? That would make some sense. After all, why would they let someone as strong in the Force as I was to rot in the Republic prisons? The Jedi were opportunists after all, at least from what I've seen of Bastila, and wouldn't waste my potential.

I think.

This is all based on how awesome my power actually was.

I gazed around the mess hall in search of Bastila but the Jedi was nowhere to be seen. She must have ducked out. I grabbed another bite off of Zaalbar's tray—echoed by another growl.

"If that's true then the Jedi must have been lying to me. Because, as Bastila said, I was placed on the Endar Spire for my language abilities. Not because I was strong in the Force. And...wasn't it our bond—?"

I stopped myself from speaking further. I didn't want to tell Carth anything about how me and the Jedi were somehow connected in the Force during the whole incident on Taris. At least, that was the only time that it could have happened. I thought that it was the bond between us that opened me up to the Force and that I hadn't been naturally dispositioned to it. Else I would have been discovered long ago. I may not have trusted the Jedi, but they didn't trust me either. It would have been worse if they trusted me while I didn't trust them. They would obviously be lying about something. Fake smiles were worse than sincere distaste. At least they got that right.

And even worse—if I somehow trusted them and they didn't trust me. I would be a mindless puppet then—unknowingly following their every whim. They would be worse than Sith, at least then I would know if I was being tortured.

My face broke out into a smile then a small chuckle.

"That and they would have said something to me sooner right? I mean, why would they hide something like that?" I said. "You're just being paranoid again, looking for ulterior motives. But I'm not angry at you since you're suspicion is directed at the Jedi this time, right?"

Carth ducked his head, narrowing his eyes, and Mission was nodding, lekku bouncing. Zalbaar still seemed upset over me stealing from his mountain of food.

The pilot shrugged. "Technically you _are_ a Jedi now. But I suppose you're right. And I'm..." He sighed. "Sorry."

I smiled.

"What was that? Didn't hear you."

He groaned.

"I'm. _Sorry_. Okay? For suspecting you like that. It really wasn't fair of me. At all," he said.

I jumped out of my seat ignoring the pain in my legs. I pointed at the pilot.

"You hear that fellow Jedi? Carth Onasi _apologized_! Let's give this soldier a round of applause."

But since these Jedi were no fun whatsoever, I was the only one clapping. I think Mission joined in briefly, but she stopped after a while. Meanwhile, Carth glared.

"You know what, why do I even bother with you?"

And he walked away, throwing out his trash.

I sat down glancing towards them with a smile on my face.

Mission's looked concerned. "Are you sure you're alright, Wes?" she asked. "Maybe you have a fever..."

And I just nodded my head since no words were really necessary.

We finished up in the mess hall and parted ways. Whether they would stick with me in my new prison was anyone's guess. I gazed out one of the windows out to the Dantooine countryside.

That had been the day that I, Wes Gale, ex-smuggler, became a member of the Jedi Order.

**End of Episode I: The Quest for the Jedi**


	14. Dantooine: Perfection

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

* * *

**Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic**

**Episode II: The Star Path**

Four thousand years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, WES GALE, newly initiated into the Jedi Order, trains underneath his patient MASTER ZHAR in the ways of the Force.

Still reminded of DARTH MALAK's destruction of the Outer Rim world Taris, the group that escaped its surface count the days until the Sith Lord unleashes his full might upon the Republic's forces.

A month has passed and each day Wes' knowledge of the Force grows. As he studies on the Outer Rim world of Dantooine, however, he has become restless and begins to question the teachings of the Jedi Order...

* * *

_A gray planet coursed with lightning. Millions of screams shouted through the Force. Explosions. Death. Darkness._

* * *

A soft wind blew my shoulder-length hair with the motions of the grasses. Echoes from that odd vision disappeared with my meditation.

The nighttime Dantooine air was still, peaceful. The crickets chirped their usual greetings by the lakeside. I'd stayed out here for too long again. _Kriff_. Instead of rushing back to the Enclave, however, I leaned back over the golden grasses with a sigh.

When I first opened myself to the Force, it was as if I was alive after being dead for years. Master Zhar put me through the paces that first week. Physical training included runs around the Enclave, stances with a practice blade, and sparring with my fellow students. Of course, I'd been an ass at first—skipping my lessons out of protest—but after that first grueling week, the most important lesson began.

"Concentrate, Wes."

Master Zhar forced me to sit on a mat in front of a datapad. For once, I listened to him and closed my eyes in concentration. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes again and stared up at the pale red Twi'lek.

"Is...something supposed to happen?"

The Master's stern face dipped. "To connect with the Force requires great concentration and focus. You see I or Bastila or any other Jedi use the Force with ease, yet that is because we have practiced honing our concentration for years to make it appear effortless."

I stared down at the datapad. Years...did we have that long?

He must have sensed my hopelessness. "You, however, are a special case. You have been using the Force instinctively. So, again, concentrate. There is no emotion, there is peace. Clear your mind and move the datapad."

I sighed. He made it sound so easy. Still, I closed my eyes. A part of me wanted to prove to him that I could do what he asked.

Cool air. The distant smacking of practice blades. Shallow breathing. A strong pulse. _There_. In the heart was power. The air buzzed with it. There is no emotion, there is peace. Yet, _I felt it_. All I had to do was _push_ with that feeling.

The datapad clattered to the linoleum floor. It had moved a foot away from me and it landed next to Master Zhar. I smiled up at him—the first smile I ever gave the stern Jedi. I thought he would have celebrated my success.

Only his celebration was muted.

"Very...good."

I frowned. Somehow, he seemed more disappointed then impressed.

_And that had to change._

After that, I attended all of the training sessions. Because using the Force was _exhilarating_. Why had I been so against it before? I enjoyed using it so much, that I took the time after hours to meditate by this lakeside. Alone. While I loved the feeling the Force gave me, the Masters insisted on control, discipline, order. I could only use the Force during particular lessons. Which left next to no time for...experimentation.

I sat up from the grasses and spotted the rocks littering the lakeside. I grinned.

_One more time before I return to my prison cell._

A low _boom_ and buzz filled the air. The Force. I lifted my hand and focused on the rocks. Two of them hovered as if being pulled by strings. With a push, the rocks skidded on the water. Five, ten, twenty, one hundred times. I lifted my other hand and sent more across the waves. The rocks danced atop the water yet none of them faltered. Perfect, complete control. Control that the Masters insisted that I lacked.

Then, something stirred in the bushes.

A rock had been hovering in the air and the noise caused it to jolt. I managed to stop it from colliding into the intruder.

The rock fell to the ground with a thump.

"What the hell, Bastila! Maybe warn me next time you decide to skulk around."

She crossed her arms. Uh, oh.

"I shouldn't have to warn you. We have a bond, remember?"

Right. That.

Because Bastila and I had this Force bond, Master Zhar included her in some of my lessons. Sometimes she fought against me with practice blades. She beat my ass... _every time_. A man's ego breaks eventually after the continuous beatings I received. I swear she never took it easy on me either. Then sometimes she would lecture. Most of the time it was about techniques on resisting the dark side. I hated those more than the beatings, honestly.

Before I could remark on Bastila's stalker-like tendencies, the Jedi stomped to my side.

"I came looking for you. It is way past curfew."

I shrugged. "Lost track of time—honest. And why do I have a curfew anyway? While I am training with children, I am _not_ one, thank you very much."

She eyed the rock I almost crushed her head with. "And what, exactly, were you doing with _that_?"

"Oh, this?" I smirked—feeling slightly giddy. "I've been practicing throwing projectiles. See, it's one thing to hover stuff around with the Force, but what use is that during combat?" Another rock hovered and I sent it skipping across the waves. "A small, fast object is more deadly than a large immovable one that takes twice the energy to lift. So, I'm sending these across the water as fast as possible. My record is ten seconds to the other side, by the way. Wanna try and beat it?"

But Bastila did not look impressed. No, she looked...terrified.

"That—do you think that using the Force is a game?"

I frowned. The rock I sent across the waves didn't even make it to the other shore.

"So, what, you're saying you don't use the Force for fun every once and awhile?"

"There is nothing _fun_ about this." She huffed. I sensed frustration through the bond that she was trying desperately to suppress. "You use the Force like no one I've ever seen, but you don't take it seriously. Do you know how _dangerous_ that is?"

I stopped lifting one of the rocks. My shoulders fell and my voice grew dark. "How exactly am I supposed to take this seriously when the Jedi Council refuses to take me seriously?" I glanced up at her. "I've trained enough. _They_ know that I've trained enough. What are they expecting? Perfection? I've learned all that I could as a lowly _Apprentice_. I'm ready to take my trials, Bastila. So...tell me, what am I missing? _What?"_

Her face grew dark and I could feel her emotions swirling in the Force. Guilt, loss, pain and doubt. They were all there.

Her answer was immediate. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

I scoffed. "Obviously there _is_ emotion. You wouldn't feel like hitting me in the face right now—" A pebble slapped me in the back of my head. I twisted round then waved at the Jedi. " _See_?"

"You are the most frustratingly _arrogant_ man alive." Bastila was red faced. "We are taught as _Jedi_ to control our emotions. That may not necessarily mean they don't exist but we still have to do our best to fight them back. That is why you will never be ready. The Council is afraid that you will succumb to the dark side. You exhibit dangerous thoughts about the Force, don't hide your blatant arrogance, and defy the Jedi Council at every turn. _That_ is what you're missing."

And she stomped away, leaving me to simmering by the lake.

That is what the Masters meant by my "lack of control." They meant that I lacked control over my emotions.

I hadn't really attempted to act like I believed in the Jedi's brainwash. Particularly when it came to the Jedi Code. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. _Blah, blah, blah_. I would question Master Zhar or Dorak and sometimes even Vrook about the Code, asking them for _reasons_. And, apparently, questions like that brought me down a peg in their eyes. Passion and emotion, dangerous qualities that I've openly expressed in front of the Masters.

No wonder why we've been sitting around here as I "trained." I was too dangerous in the eyes of the Masters. A child who didn't understand their misguided ways. But there was no way I was going to fall for any of their brainwash either. Even to appease them. Which meant that I was trapped here. Held hostage until I bowed before the Jedi's philosophies.

I shot to my feet. Twenty rocks flew all at once into the lake. They splashed water over my boots.

_Kriff it all._

* * *

My sleep was dreamless, fortunately, and the 0600 early morning rays cracked open my crusty eyes.

Another day of training.

 _Joy_.

I sighed as I rubbed my recent bruises then grabbed my robes from the dresser. The schedule had become hardwired into my brain: get up, eat breakfast, listen to Zhar lecture about the different lightsaber stances, apply them in the form of Bastila beating me to death, then listen to Master Dorak go on about Jedi history. Finally, I would read from a datapad for _hours_ before lunch. After that, meditation, meditation, more meditation.

I trudged down the Enclave hallways—my body and soul heavy. A whole _month_ of pissing around waiting. The Sith were still out there terrorizing the Republic. Not that I _cared_ about that stupid war, but shouldn't the Council be a little bit concerned? I barely saw Vandar, I wished I saw less of Dorak, and every time I saw Vrook I cringed. None of them looked especially busy with fighting the Sith.

A few Jedi nodded at me as I stormed down the halls. I had already grown a reputation around here as the "prodigy." Some of the other Apprentices and even some Padawans approached me at random times of the day. All of them wanted me to tell them the "secret" or to give them words of "wisdom." But there was no secret and I had no wisdom.

The mess hall was crowded as usual in the early morning. I raised an eyebrow after I spotted a familiar figure in the corner.

"Where have you _been_?" I asked Canderous. "It's been a _month_ since I last saw you. I thought you left."

The Mandalorian snorted, glancing down at my robes. "I knew you were lying to me on Taris. You are a Jedi." He smirked. "And as for what I've been up to..." He threw a metal rod at me and I caught it deftly.

"This is—?"

"A lightsaber." He chuckled as he saw my suspicious expression. "I didn't kill any of you Jedi to get it, if that's what you're thinking. I got that off of the hands of another Mandalorian. One that has been raiding the Dantooine countryside for a while now. Of course, I killed that dishonorable son of a bitch."

I nodded my head, remembering tales of Mandalorian raiders in the East. The Jedi Council had sent a Jedi Knight to bring the raiders to justice, yet after reports of the Knight's death, they didn't bother to send anyone else. Of course.

"Did you get all of them?" I asked.

Canderous Ordo chuckled. "You think I'm an army, pipsqueak? I'm not going to risk my neck invading a clan by myself. I might be a battle hardened warrior...but I'm not stupid."

A clan. So, these weren't just simple raiders. An entire _clan_ was on Dantooine. I shuddered. _And there the Jedi were—ignoring another problem._

 _No_.

I shoved the lightsaber at Canderous.

"Do whatever you want with that," I said.

I probably could have taken it to the Jedi Masters, but they would only ask annoying questions about where I found it. And, to be honest, I didn't want to answer those questions. Not when I was beginning to plot something marginally stupid.

The Mando raised his dark eyebrows. "You sure?" He shrugged. "If you say so..."

He pocketed the saber as I left. My thoughts raced dangerously. There is no chaos, there is harmony. But is there _really_? My walking pace turned into stomps as I headed towards the training rooms. How long were the Mandos going to terrorize the farmers before the Jedi Council took action?

_Probably forever._

I arrived at the training halls—the most chaotic area of the Enclave. Young Jedi Apprentices sparred with each other while being guided by their Masters. The hall I had been assigned was near the back—far from the other practicing students. My own Master, Zhar, had been speaking to someone when I arrived. He raised his brow as I stomped in.

"Good morning, Apprentice," he said. "Early today, I see..."

Bastila watched us with crossed arms—the mirrors reflected her ever disappointed frown at me. Great—it was one of those lessons. My face twitched—recalling the venom we shot at each other last night. I wouldn't have been surprised if she blabbed to Master Zhar about that.

I tried to control the frustration in my voice when I answered. "Thought it would be good to get a head start to the day, Master."

The Twi'lek glanced at Bastila and she returned the look. They always shared these looks as if they were in on some plot to dominate the galaxy. Eventually, I approached the weapon racks and grabbed one of the wooden practice blades. A numb feeling formed in my chest as Master Zhar began his lesson.

"We'll first review Form I and Form III. Then, I will teach you Form IV, Ataru, while combining previous forms into combat."

I stared at the hilt of the practice saber for over a minute as my Master rambled on about the intricacies of the Forms. Eventually, his words faded until the only thing that mattered was the practice blade in my hand.

_The blades smacked together in a strange rhythm. Sweat beaded on my face. I smiled. I'd never felt so alive—_

I jumped when a hand gripped my shoulder.

"Are you alright, Wes?" Zhar asked.

My mouth was open, yet only now did I take a breath.

"Yes, I—" There is no emotion, there is peace. I lowered the blade. "It's...nothing. Sorry, Master."

Master Zhar didn't look convinced though with that frown on his face.

"Then prepare yourself."

I flipped the practice blade while giving Bastila an eye—expecting her to start blabbing about my late night "games." Except, she stood in silence as Master Zhar went through the sequences of Form I and III again. Form I—Shii-Cho. It focused on defense against multiple enemies by using disarming maneuvers. Flimsy combat droids with wooden staffs popped up from the floor. I flipped my blade once as I eyed the five droids. Then, they sprung into action.

I dodged the first droid and disarmed it with a flick. The next one tried to slash my side, yet I blocked the blow. The force of the block was enough to cause the staff to skid out of the droid's grip. The last three droids attacked at the same time yet I rose a hand. The droids froze before their staffs connected with me. Then I pushed and they clattered to the far side of the training hall.

I hadn't even broken a sweat.

Master Zhar's reflection in the mirror was calm as he admonished me. "Apprentice, please refrain from using the Force directly on your opponents. Form I focuses entirely on disarming maneuvers." He tapped a button on the training module controls and the droids reset themselves. "Again."

My right arm twitched and my face tightened.

The droids attacked again. And I defended against them again. This time, I weaved and dodged with precision. It had taken longer then the first round, but eventually the staffs fell to the mat.

Next, Form III—Soresu. Another defensive form. For this one, Master Zhar gave me a helmet designed to block both sound and sight. I needed to sense the droid's swipes with the Force and block its attacks until I no longer could. The darkness and the silence only granted me focus as I predicted where the droid was going to attack next. It took an hour before the droid finally landed a hit. Sweat had begun to build on my chest as I finally threw the helmet off, wincing at the light.

Then, finally, Zhar taught me Form IV—Ataru. The first offensive form I was to learn. It relied on speed which was good because I had become tired of blocking and weaving attacks. Bastila and Master Zhar demonstrated the form. As they attacked each other, they became a blur of brown and pale red. When it was my turn to replicate, I was at a loss.

Master Zhar must have sensed my hesitation. "Strike fast but with purpose. Wild attacks will make you unbalanced. And remember, there is no chaos, there is harmony."

And I did so. The air tingled with the Force and my body moved supernaturally fast. So fast, I didn't know how I could still breath. The practice blades sounded like rapid fire from a blaster cannon as Master Zhar blocked and parried each of my blows. Eventually, after a few minutes of this, the Twi'lek called for me to stop. More sweat beaded down my forehead.

He gave me a short break before it was time to put the forms into practice.

Bastila and I each readied into our stances and stood a few meters apart. Her face was more serene than before when she had shouted at me by the lakeside. Of course, since she was in front of a Master, now she practiced what she preached. I held the wooden blade in a reverse grip—the edge of the blade pointed directly at my opponent.

I was first to attack with a dive. She blocked it with ease, but I then alternated between forms in no specific pattern.

Bastila specialized in the use of Form II—Makashi. Elegant, refined—the opposite of her actual qualities. I ducked when she twirled the blade in a wide arch at my head. As I recovered, she saw another opening and slashed down. I was somehow able to block the attack, however, the practice blade flew out of my hand. I cursed but before she tapped my shoulder to signify my defeat, I pulled the blade towards me using the Force. It spun in the air and landed in the palm of my hand. A loud clack resounded from the two wooden practice sabers colliding together.

She attacked me again and I was put on the defensive, my newly learned offensive form _worthless_. The wooden blade snapped at me once, adding a new bruise, and every time I blocked I grew tired. But nothing was going to take away my victory. Not this time.

She was using Ataru now, so I weaved away instead of blocking the strikes that would tire me further. She was a blur as she attacked yet I was still able to avoid her acrobatic forms. And she was growing tired, just as I guessed she would. We locked blades again. I regripped the hilt as she pushed down. There was a slight break of emotion on her face—frustration.

"What are you—?"

I pushed her away with a smile, twirling the practice blade.

If I beat Bastila Shan, the Masters would have no choice but to admit that I was ready.

I didn't give her a chance to finish as I dove into Ataru myself, relentlessly going on the offense. She grunted as she was forced to block my overarching attacks, her face drained of color. I was moving unpredictably and—admittedly—not sticking with the sequences Zhar taught me. How was I supposed to beat her though if I was being predictable?

Using as much aggression that I had saved from previous fights, I pushed myself as hard as possible using the Ataru form. A bead of sweat went down Bastila's forehead and I knew I had her. I turned to disarm her, but when our blades collided...

Her saber broke into a million wooden shards.

Bastila appeared shocked as she lowered her broken blade—her face paled. Master Zhar was speechless as well. I was breathing heavily and wiped my brow of sweat. I beat her...right? Did that count?

I gave Master Zhar a hopeful look.

He shuddered. "W-What you just used..."

I threw my practice blade to the ground. I couldn't hide my frustration any longer.

"What did I do wrong _now?_ "

He watched my face then gave Bastila one of those _looks_.

"Nothing. Practice is over for today."

And he walked out with that emotionless expression I'd gotten used to seeing after disappointing him. I'd just beaten one of their best students, yet he acted as if I had failed.

_Guess I did nothing right._

I grabbed a washcloth and drained my face of sweat, looking forward to Dorak's lecture on Sith Wars and inner political struggles of the past. Because at least then I didn't get a moral lecture about my own actions. I turned and noticed that Bastila was still there. Eerily staring at me. I slapped the cloth onto the metal balance bar and turned to face her with my hands on my hips.

"You wanna say something?" I asked.

I snapped her out of her reverie. She shook her head, pigtails flying.

"The last sparing...it was tiresome."

I responded by grabbing my dark brown cloak and shoved it on. After I refreshed myself, Bastila had moved and was now looking out the windows into Dantooine's blue sky. I smirked. Then, she tripped out of nowhere—somehow. I turned around, pretending I had nothing to do with her fall as she yelped—more in surprise then pain.

"What was _that_ for?"

I tutted. "Tripping on air...you really are losing your touch."

She blustered as she stood back up. "That was you—you just—you... you _childish fiend!"_

I rubbed my stubbled chin. "And stumbling over your own words as well? What happened to the perfect Jedi princess?"

She huffed in her pretty Talravin accent. "I am not _perfect_. No one is perfect."

"Of course you say that—after I beat you."

She twitched. "You think that is what matters? That you beat me in some fight?" She crossed her arms. "You forget that I can sense your emotions during battle. All I could sense from you was pure aggression. But as a Jedi you are supposed to temper your aggressions. So, who really won here?"

"Ah, so you're a sore loser then."

"You are just—"

She stopped before she even got started. I barely heard underneath her breath the Jedi Code. Despite her mumblings, a tornado of emotions were exchanged in the bond. Before I could comment on her contradictory behavior, she stormed out of the training hall after Master Zhar.

When she left, my smile faded.

* * *

"I see you insist on wandering the halls of our Enclave when you should be busy studying your lessons."

Why did I have to run into Master Vrook of all people?

I hadn't skipped lessons since that first week at the Jedi Enclave, yet after that fight with Bastila I'd become...restless. The disappointed looks from all of the Masters were starting to get to me. That and my assignment had lots of flowery writing about how to control your emotions and...ugh, it was pedantic. So, I decided walking the halls was a better use of my time than reading that bantha poo doo.

I rolled my eyes before I turned to face the Master.

"My lessons are going well, Master Vrook," I said with a smile, bowing. "I finished my assignments early. Was just—"

"I find it hard to believe that you have completed _all_ of your studies in an hour. What has Master Dorak assigned you?"

I looked off to the side, trying to make up something that would take an hour. I smiled once I figured out a clever lie. "Oh, the Mandalorian Wars of course. See, I already know about said war. I'm pretty confident—"

"It doesn't matter if you're _confident_ about your predisposed knowledge. Your lessons are there to specifically guide you in the ways of the Jedi lest you suffer a fate similar to that of Revan."

I pursed my lips. That was a little extreme. Was every Jedi that attempted to skip assignments a Sith Lord now? Unfortunately, Vrook saw my defiance and crossed his arms, not intending me to let me go.

I crossed my arms. "I doubt that I'd 'suffer a fate similar to that of Revan' by overlooking a part of history that I already know well enough about."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew anything. Because...you act _exactly_ like him."

My mouth hung open as I stared at the gray-haired Jedi. What was this old guy going on about? Before I could ask him that, he told me to walk with him. Since I had no choice, I walked by his side.

Vrook looked off into the Dantooine sky. "Revan was a promising young Padawan. Always eager to learn more about the Force, he rose in the ranks and became a Jedi Knight. That curiosity led him down a dark path as he sought knowledge of Sith artifacts and practices, foolishly ignoring the dangers of the dark side." He continued. "When the Mandalorian Wars started, despite our _insistent_ warnings, he joined the conflict dragging thousands of eager Jedi with him into the Outer Rim worlds. After he disappeared, we knew he had fallen."

I pursed my lips. "O-kay? But what does that have to do with me?"

"Everything." Vrook's old voice broke. "I've heard from Master Zhar about your progress. While your use of the Force is...extraordinary, your passion is similar to that of Revan's. And if you do not control your passions, you will fall down a similar path."

"Oh, come on, do you really believe that?" I tried to stop a smirk from spreading on my face. "No matter how many times you try to insist on it, I'm not Revan. I'm not Malak either. Sure, I started late. Sure, I make mistakes. But how is it even fair for you to pass that type of judgement on me when I have done nothing to deserve it?"

The Master jerked to a stop in my peripheral vision and I stopped with him. Vrook was redder than any sun, his dark glare like a lightsaber to my chest.

He shook his wrinkled head. "You really haven't learned a _thing_ , have you?"

To be quiet honest, I was afraid of the Jedi Master then, he actually looked hostile. My mouth shot open as I felt that intent, a strange anger coming from a Jedi Master who preached control.

I looked away.

Suddenly, his anger faded, replaced entirely with simple annoyance. "If you find me overly critical, perhaps it is because you do not fully understand what is at stake. For fifteen thousand years the Republic has brought peace and stability to the galaxy. Now the Republic may fall because we, the Jedi, have failed them."

I raised my eyebrows at the Master, surprised that he actually looked... _guilty_?

Master Vrook continued. "Revan and Malak were paragons of the ideals the Order seeks to uphold, yet they succumbed to the temptations of the dark side. When Revan fell, Malak took up the mantle of dark lord of the Sith. What will happen once Malak is defeated? What's stopping another Jedi from taking his place?"

"That's not going to happen though," I said. "I'm nothing like that."

The old master sighed. "You really don't understand, do you? Because of our failures, as masters we have to watch over our pupils and make sure they do not succumb to the dark side as easily as Revan and Malak. That is why I can expect _nothing_ but perfection from you."

The stress of that statement caused a bead of sweat to fall from my face. Why did they place such high expectations on me? I was a _smuggler_ before this happened, their damn expectations should be _low_ not _high_.

Master Vrook eyed me once before he walked past me. Then as a final call...

"Go back to your lessons. If you are not careful then the dark side will consume all." He stopped before the door of his office. "And when that happens, there will be no one left to save you."

* * *

Meditations.

I'd been hovering above the ground for the past hour. The silence of the meditation room allowed for focus, concentration, peace. Yet all I could think about was tribulations and chaos. Master Vrook's words had been the cause of said anxiety. If I fell, no one could save me. The dark side was all encompassing. My passions were a weakness. So were my emotions. As these thoughts entered my meditation, that _buzzing_ feeling of the Force grew more and more. But I tried to suppress this sensation.

Tried.

And failed.

 _Yes, you're a failure_. _Can't control your emotions._ _Probably going to fall to the dark side._ _You'll kill innocents. And it'll be because you were a stupid, nerf herder—_

A multitude of clatters. I yelped when my ass hit the meditation mats.

My eyes widened when I saw all of the chairs in the room laying about broken in different positions. None of them were upright as if a large wind had picked them up and tossed them to the floor. I rubbed my face. Unbelievable...after I told myself to reign it in, I had to go and do that.

A chatter surrounded me. I looked up and noticed a group of Padawans and Apprentices gawking as if I was a freak show. I heard a few shouts from the crowd to move out of the way and almost ran when three of the masters—Dorak, Vrook, and Zhar—moved through the crowd.

"That's _enough_ back to your lessons," Dorak pleaded with the group of young ones.

I picked myself up as the crowd dispersed then I observed the mess I made. Well, guess I should clean that up. I shoved all the chairs one by one back against the wall—leaving the ones that had broken in the fall. I'd actually begun _trying_ to suppress my emotions, but in the process I somehow created an even bigger mess. I rubbed my brow of sweat when I finished. I know I could have used the Force to move them...but I was used to doing things by hand. I couldn't always rely on the Force like a crutch.

I hadn't noticed before, but Bastila had also been there gawking at me like one of the Apprentices. I smirked at her, digging my hands into my robe pockets and walking past her, noticing that the sun was setting. So, I wasn't meditating for an hour after all. Time seemed to fly while in that meditative state.

As if in response my stomach growled.

Bastila crossed her arms and followed me to the mess hall. She was giving me that stare as if she wanted to say something.

I stopped walking. "What?"

Might as well get the lecture over with.

"That—I felt—You shouldn't... Forget it."

I smirked at her and instead of continuing to walk on like she probably expected, I drew closer to her face, my smile growing. I could see that she looked mildly uncomfortable.

"Come on, you can tell me, Bondy," I said.

As if that word was a curse she huffed while shaking her head, pigtails bouncing.

" _Bondy_? What is that supposed to mean?"

She resumed walking and I matched her strides.

"You know...a combination of bond and buddy. Bondy. What else are we supposed to call what we are?"

"We have a _bond_ but we aren't _buddies_."

I smiled and began to walk backwards in order to see her face.

"Oh, I think you're interested in more than just the 'bond' between us," I said, winking.

She stopped and I stopped just before I collided into some poor Padawan who dropped his notes. As if recognizing me as a Master or something, he bowed and ran off, leaving me with the blustering Jedi Knight.

Her face glowed. " _Please_. I'm a Jedi. Such feelings, such attractions are—"

"You have _feelings_ for me?" I said, holding a hand to my heart. "I'm sorry, but don't you think our relationship is moving a bit too quickly?"

Her face appeared comically horrified, and her cheeks grew even redder.

"That isn't...you are _impossible._ Truly."

I smirked and continued my journey to food. Bastila rushed along side me. I thought I'd scared her away with that line. Honestly, I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. Especially after today. The redness on her face was just about to cool off. Maybe she should have learned when to stop talking too.

"I admit I find you intriguing." I looked at her with a raised brow. She hesitated when she noticed my expression. "Uh...I mean I find your command of the _Force_ intriguing. But my interest in you is purely academic. Surely you can understand why."

"Right. So I'm as attractive as a lab gizka. Got it."

I heard her sigh again. "That isn't— _a_ _nyway_. I came looking for you to ask some questions. I know very little about your past and given our relationship—"

" _R_ _elationship?_ " I chuckled. "Is this some kind of clumsy come-on?"

Her face began to turn red again. "I was _referring_ to the bond we share. You know, the one the Jedi Council spoke of? If I was actually interested in a relationship with you, surely I would come up with a better attempt then this."

"Touched a nerve there, huh?"

"Touched a nerve, no. Getting on my nerves, most definitely. I suppose this is what you consider being 'witty,'" she said, rolling her eyes while huffing.

I was going to continue, but my empty stomach was beginning to detract from this game me and Bastila were playing. At least, it seemed fun to me—not sure if she was enjoying it.

When we reached the hall, the Jedi Knight continued to talk. She really liked talking today.

"Anyway, are you going to answer my questions or are you going to keep annoying me?"

I grabbed a metal tray from the top of the pile and made for the hot food while Bastila trailed behind me. Didn't she know when to have a proper discussion? Like...when your subject wasn't starved?

I dipped a spoon into some tasteless pudding and dipped it onto my tray. _Delicious._

"I don't know—do you want to know my life story or something?"

She had also grabbed a tray and was now filling it with food as well.

She shook her head. "Nothing so detailed. Just things like...what planet are you from?"

"Deralia. Anything else?"

"How old are you?"

"15,657. Healthy living you know?"

She groaned.

"I'm _serious_."

"Thirty-two—single and ready to mingle."

She ignored that quip.

"You were a smuggler?"

I grabbed a fruit and made for the tables in the corner of the hall. The Jedi lagged behind.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, certainly a smuggler like you had a reason to become one?"

I collapsed on the benches of the table I'd selected. I inhaled deeply as I stretched the meditation sores out of my body. Despite it just appearing like I was just sitting there for a few hours, meditation really put a strain on the body. And made me hungry as hell. The Jedi made herself at home in front of me without asking to be invited

I waved a fork at her face.

"Who put you up to this interrogation?"

She stuttered. "Wha—?"

"Master Vrook? Master Zhar?"

She became nonplussed. "No one 'put me up to it.' I was just curious."

"Sure, just out of the blue you decided to ask little ol' me about my past." I shoved food into my mouth. "Well, tell the Masters to be rest assured. I didn't become a smuggler for fun. Nah, it's just what you do when you're trying to survive in the Outer Rim. And most of the time I pissed my earnings away drunk in some cantina." I hummed as I thought back to my escapades. "Actually, my life was rather...dull."

"Dull?"

I stared down at my pudding. "Maybe?" I gave a frustrated sigh. "I don't know."

Bastila watched me as I ate and didn't touch her own food.

Then after I'd eaten half of my meal, she asked, "Do you sometimes wish that things had been...different?"

I raised a brow. "Different how?"

"What if the Jedi had discovered you when you were a child?"

I snickered. "Would it have been different? Sure. I probably would have been indoctrinated into the cult easier. Is that why the Jedi take children?"

" _Cult_?"

I waved a hand. "Just a joke, Bondy." I pursed my lips as I actually thought about her question. "Would it have been different? Probably. But...probably not." It was hard to think about the "what-ifs." "I might have stuck to the Jedi Code like glue. Or I might have joined Revan and Malak in the Mandalorian Wars and turned Sith." And either one did not sound appealing to me. I smirked. "You done being my therapist?"

Bastila looked as if I'd said something profound though. "Would you have joined Revan?"

I sighed. "It's as I said—I have no idea. I'd have been a completely different person with different beliefs."

"You're avoiding the question. I'm saying if, right now, the Mandalorian Wars were happening—would you have followed them?"

I pushed my food tray forward while giving her a look. "I didn't want to join this Sith war. What makes you think I would have joined Revan's?" I stood and watched the Jedi with suspicion. "Tell Master Vrook that, for the hundredth time, I'm nothing like Revan. Maybe he'll believe _you_."

Before I could hear anymore lies from her mouth, I stormed out of the mess hall, leaving her with her cold dinner.


	15. Dantooine: A Duel

I yawned as the next morning's sun attempted to open my eyelids. Another day of more _training_. At the mess hall, my tired gaze drifted to the tables. An orange figure bent over his food tray with a frown.

Usually, Carth hung around the Ebon Hawk stooped over the comms. But more recently he jumped from settlement to settlement in order to appease his boredom. I wondered why he didn't just leave—Malak left the Outer Rim a week ago to some unknown system. 

I smirked before slapping him in the back. 

"Yo, Orangy!"

He jumped then narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

I took a seat beside him and leaned with my hands on the back of my head. I had half an hour to get to my lessons with Zhar. It could wait.

"You're still sticking around? I’d thought you’d jump out of here weeks ago.” My smile grew. “Why—are you going to miss my cunning witticisms?”

Carth pursed his lips. “I would have _loved_ to have left by now, yet Admiral Dodonna wants to be kept in the know with the Jedi Council’s ‘mission.’” He threw his metal fork to the tray with a clatter. “Kinda hard to do that when I’m being left out of the loop.”

"Left out of the loop?" 

Carth shot up from the bench.

I waved as he walked off. "Hey, am I really that much of a pain in the arse?"

The soldier turned to give me an eye. "How did you gain the ability to use the Force in the first place? Does it really just sprout up randomly? That...that’s not natural."

I crossed my arms. "Well, there is Nomi Sunrider. Apparently, she's someone like me who learned to use the Force in her later life. So, it happens."

"But how often? Not very. And you _also_ happened to be on the same ship Bastila was on? It doesn't matter if the Force was involved or not, it all sounds a bit too convenient." He rubbed his face. "How were you captured anyway?"

I put my hands in my pockets with a sneer. "I don't want to talk about it.”

"You better start talking about it."

"Why does it even matter?"

"If the Jedi were the ones who captured you then all of this would make so much more sense."

I looked up into the ceiling. “Why would the Jedi capture a smuggler? They don’t put their noses into the affairs of the Republic unless the Sith are involved.”

" _Were_ the Sith involved?"

I shot him a look. "No! And I don't think that's any of your business. Nor does it matter now that you have your answers."

To make a point, I stood from the bench and walked towards breakfast. I considered going to my lessons early again just to avoid these interrogations. At least people didn’t like talking to me when I was waving a wooden stick around. 

I was able to dodge Carth's extended hand with ease. I turned to give him a sly smirk.

"Have to do better than that."

Carth stopped me with his voice this time. "I just seem to insult you at every turn, don't I? You might not think this is important but I do. I mean, haven't you felt it?"

I rolled my eyes. 

"Felt what?"

"Suspicious."

To be quite honest, there was something _abnormal_ about the Jedi Council. Even though they helped train me for a month already, they always kept me at arms length. In fact, _everyone_ in this Enclave older than twenty kept their distance from me. What was I, a kinrath spider? A krayt dragon? A rabies infected rancor?

Carth looked satisfied when he saw my dark expression.

"Then you see where I'm coming from."

I hissed. "You really are annoying, you know that right?"

"You can't trust anyone. Not even the Jedi. If you find that annoying, then I suppose I don't have the right to say anything."

Damn right he didn't.

" _Fine_ ," I spat. "You want answers? Well, you better listen closely then. I’m not going to say it again.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stared out the window. “My crew sold me out. Apparently, they decided that my leadership wasn't worth the credits. The bastards. I hope they're still rotting in a cell or in a pile of debris for what they did."

"They sold you out?"

I faced Carth with a groan. "Do I have to tell you the whole story in order for you to leave me alone?"

The silent stare told me _yes_ although I was praying for a sharp _no_. I wanted to kick something again. 

"It was...I don’t know—half a year ago? We made a pit stop near Corellia to deliver some...goods. Honestly, I’m not even sure who tipped them off, but while I was hashing out the details, Republic ships began to swarm us. Before they could pull us into a tractor beam, I made the stupidest decision in my career.” 

“Oh?”

Ugh, I could feel myself turning red with embarrassment already. 

"In a panic I sort of, kind of—crashed my ship onto the planet." When I saw Carth's horrified face I waved my hand. "Don't worry, I aimed for the swamps. I wanted to get out of there alive, after all."

"You crashed your own ship _on purpose_? And onto a populated planet?" he shrieked. "What were you damn thinking?"

"Hey, it was either that or surrendering to the core slimes. And I already told you it was a stupid decision.” I thought back to that day. _Pain. Fear. Darkness._ I blinked. “I don't know if any of my crew survived the crash. I don’t care. Next thing I know, I'm in a hospital close to death. They offered me a choice: either join the Republic or sit in a cell for the rest of my days. Guess what I picked? The Jedi arrived after that and the rest, of course, is history.” I glanced around the Enclave walls. “And, what do you know—now I'm a _Jedi_." I grinned. "So, we’ll just forget about this whole thing, right?"

The soldier was thoughtful. "So, what you're telling me is that all of this really _was_ just a coincidence? I'm...not sure if I can accept that."

“The Force works in _mysterious_ ways.” He rolled his eyes as I waggled my eyebrows. I huffed. "Look I'm not lying—it was actually kind of embarrassing to admit that..." I rubbed the back of my head. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better I'm just as much out of the loop as you are."

I was going to leave it at that but Carth's shocked look made me pause.

"Are you serious? I rarely see you without Bastila anymore. And even _when_ I find you without her, you're either meditating or talking to the Jedi Masters. I haven't even been introduced yet." 

“Count yourself lucky there.” I smirked. “And honestly even if you spoke to them, I doubt you’d get answers. I’m around them 24-7 and I still have questions they refuse to answer.”

He huffed. "Okay...maybe I'm just overthinking this."

"You _always_ overthink things, Orangy. That isn't really new."

Carth smirked back at me though his eyes still held suspicion in them. Before I could walk away towards the training halls, something bumped into me from behind. I calmed when I saw it was Mission grinning at me from ear to ear with Zaalbar who was holding... T3?

Obviously, the Twi'lek hadn't expected to run into us.

"Oh, wow, hey guys—Wessy! Haven't seen you in ages..."

Of course, Jedi training had been my life for the past month. And the persistent Masters never allowed for days where I could just do nothing. I smiled down at Mission then glanced at Zaalbar.

"What are you doing...exactly?"

T3-M4 beeped in horror—something about letting him go. I narrowed my eyes at the Twi'lek and she was twirling her lekku while gazing off towards Carth.

"Oh...nothing much. Big Z and I were just bored so we decided to go strolling around..."

I pointed towards T3. "Then why did you bring the droid with you?" 

"T3 was...going too slow! That's right...he rolls around _so_ slowly, so I asked Big Z to carry him!"

T3's negative beeping told me otherwise. I crossed my arms.

"Apparently not.”

The Twi'lek flinched. "W-What?"

"I can understand T3 you know. So, care to tell me why you kidnapped the droid?"

Carth raised a brow.. "Wait, you can understand him? _How?"_

I shrugged. "It's not really that difficult. There are different inflections—"

"Forget it... I wouldn't understand it anyway."

Thank the Force I didn't have to go over binary with the pilot. I already had a headache as it was.

Apparently, Zaalbar had enough of the droid and dropped it to the ground. T3 scurried over to my side and hid behind me as if a seven foot tall Wookiee wouldn't be able to just bowl me over anyway.

Mission brushed her lekku. “It's not what it looks like, really! We just...wanted him to...break into stuff." She held up her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But his state of the art programs can't be wasted away on the ship, right?"

I smiled to the teen's great surprise. I was actually glad that they were getting into trouble, it meant that Mission was getting over Taris a bit. Of course, over the last month I barely saw her so I wasn't able to be there during the grieving process. And, to be quite honest, I was glad I wasn't there. I wasn't much of a shoulder to cry on.

Carth crossed his arms. "You know that you could get arrested for those sorts of things, right?" he said. "I'm pretty sure thievery is a federal offense."

I rolled my eyes. "Let her have some fun, old man. She's not hurting anyone."

The blue Twi'lek smiled at me and I could hear a few beeping behind me in betrayal.

"Thanks, Wessy! I knew you would be on my side! Not like Mister Grumpy over there."

Mister Grumpy—aka Carth—actually looked offended.

"Of course she's hurting someone. And—don't egg her on! Aren't you a _Jedi?_ "

I rubbed my chin with a smirk. "A very _liberal_ Jedi with practical views—as they would say in the Senate." I gave the Twi'lek a thumbs up. "And I say go for it. Milk T3 for what he's worth."

That very same droid exploded in refusals and disbeliefs—mentioning some grumpy old man that beat him up when he tried to open a “supposedly” empty room. Gazing thoughtfully towards the droid, I tilted my head at Mission's excited eyes.

"Just be careful. We spent a lot on him after all..."

She waved a hand. "He'll be fine. Big Z'll fix him up if there is ever a problem!"

T3 seemed to quiet after her reassuring statement, however, beeped in terror when Zaalbar grabbed the droid once again by the chassis.

Before they left, I called out to them. 

"By the way, where's that kid?"

Mission turned around, tilting her head.

"Kid? Oh! I thought he was with you."

My heart sank. I glanced towards Carth.

"Have you seen him?"

When he shook his head, I grew even more worried. I last saw him over a month ago and I figured that he was hanging around with Mission or Carth.

"Wait," Mission said. "You mean he _wasn't_ with you this entire time? Where is he then?"

Carth narrowed his eyes at me. "How could you lose a kid like that?"

I raised my hands. "Hey, he wasn't my responsibility!"

"You're the one who rescued him!"

I sighed. Carth was right. I lost sight of the kid and who knew where he was now. Back in slaver hands? Out in the wilderness of Dantooine? Starved and lost? All of those possibilities frightened me.

I stormed towards the port. Carth called out.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going after the kid."

They didn’t follow as I rushed away.

* * *

After hours of asking around, skipping my morning training session, Liam was nowhere to be found. I’d failed. Again.

I collapsed onto the grass by the lakeside. The only information I’d gained from asking around the spaceports had been rumors of the Mandalorians kidnapping children for ransom. One person had spotted a child of Liam’s description trailing a blue armored Mando. It was my only lead. However, in order to locate the clan I had to go outside the compound. I wasn't allowed to leave for too long—at least not until the Council deemed me “worthy.” But I'll _never_ be at this rate.

A shadow covered the ground. I cringed when I saw Bastila behind me. Instead of addressing her, I pulled at the grass in frustration. 

Her voice was shrill. “I’ve spent all morning looking for you. Is there a _reason_ as to why you skipped out on training today?”

I continued to pull at the grass. For a split second, I considered telling her about Liam and how I’d spent all morning trying to find him. Yet, I was reminded of the shame of my failure and all of those disappointed looks from the Masters. I couldn’t let her know I’d failed again. It wasn’t like she or any other Jedi would help me anyway.

“Why should I bother?” I threw some grass into the wind. “Nothing I do will be good enough.”

“So, you’re going to sulk out here like a child instead of sucking up your enormous ego and listen to the Masters?”

“Yup.”

I could feel her seethe through the bond even though she didn’t express that emotion. And I thought she would have marched away in anger like before. But instead she sat in front of me. Her expression was unreadable. Despite our bond I couldn’t tell what she was feeling.

We stared at each other. For too long, really. 

“It’s not like you to give up, Wes.”

I finally lost the stare battle and glanced across the lake. She rarely used my name. It was always “ _Apprentice_ ” or “ _You_.”

“You obviously don’t know a thing about me then.”

“I know you’re stubborn to a fault. So stubborn you’d outlast the patience of Master Vandar.”

“Oh, is this supposed to be a Jedi pep-talk? Because it's starting to sound like one.”

“You just...really? I’m trying to be encouraging here.” 

I met her gaze again. And she wasn’t lying. Instead of disappointment or frustration marking her face, there was compassion. Empathy. 

I sneered. “Well, it’s a waste of your time.”

She stared at me again for a long moment. Then, she stood. “I’d thought you’d change—at least a little. Guess you’ve made a fool out of me.”

My breath froze in my lungs. I didn’t look back as she stomped away back towards the Enclave. Why did I always seem to screw things up between us? With a final sigh, I pushed to my feet and stared back at the Enclave.

It was time to take matters into my own hands.

* * *

“Like Malak and Revan, Exar Kun was a Jedi who fell to the dark side and led an army against the Jedi and the Republic. Exar Kun was defeated, but the war left both the Republic and our own Order severely weakened. For twenty years we struggled to rebuild, trying to erase the scars of that terrible conflict. The Mandalorians, aware the Republic was in a weakened state…”

I drowned out Master Dorak’s lesson as I began plotting my escape. Leaving the Enclave was no longer a problem anymore. But leaving after curfew? On purpose? And there were other problems besides the Masters. Like locating the Mandos in the first place and then somehow defend myself if I happened to run into them. I had no idea where the clan was and I had no weapons. I relinquished my blaster ages ago, thinking I wouldn’t need one around the Jedi. 

But then, I remembered.

_Hopefully, Canderous Ordo is still around._

The sun was setting as I approached the Ebon Hawk. I smirked after spotting the Mando working on one of the rear panels. I’d seen him that morning working on the ship. It must be one of his new pet projects—repairing the Ebon Hawk in order to avoid the massive fees levied by the mechanics at the Enclave.

As I approached, he turned down his blowtorch. The Mando lifted the blast mask from his face, his neck had become stained with soot.

"What is it, pipsqueak?"

"That lightsaber," I said. "You still have it?"

He raised an eyebrow and his scar creased with it. “Maybe...you going to use it for something interesting?”

"When you were out there did you see a kid? The same one that came with us?"

His dark eyes narrowed. “No, but I saw some other kids. The brute I defeated was rounding them up for ransom. Cowards.”

“I think they took Liam.”

He shrugged. "There's not much you can do then. If no one responded to his ransom, he's probably long gone by now."

Canderous turned the blow torch on again so I had to shout over it.

“Where’s the clan’s hideout?”

The Mando lowered the torch again. "A few clicks out near the Eastern caverns." Canderous smirked. “You’re not planning on going out there, are you?” I crossed my arms with a smirk on my face. The Mando chuckled then turned off the torch. “Son of a bitch. Sure, I’ll give you the lightsaber, but I’m going with you.”

I raised my brow. “Oh? I thought you’d say something along the lines of it being a suicide mission.”

A bright spark lit Canderous’ gaze. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

* * *

The Enclave at night always had this eeriness about it—I wouldn’t have been surprised if the ghosts of lost Jedi lived in the shadows. Sneaking out of my room was the easiest part of my plan. The droids, who were the only guardians of the halls, shuffled past the dorms. I was able to count their steps and sense their movements through the Force. Once the coast was clear, I raised my hood and briskly walked to the spaceport. 

I had to be quick. No one could stop me once I got far enough away from the Enclave. I’d already been admonished by the Masters for more inconsequential things. Why not continue my streak of failures?

Canderous Ordo smirked when I arrived at the port. He’d slung his heavy blaster over his shoulder along with a few grenades at his belt. When I stopped, he threw the silver rod and I caught it deftly.

“Ready, pipsqueak?”

I rubbed my thumb over the grooves. The staff was awkward in my hand. Guilt radiated in my chest. A Jedi’s weapon was made with the blood, sweat, and tears of the owner. It almost felt...wrong borrowing it.

I pushed those thoughts aside and hooked the lightsaber to my belt.

Outside the Enclave was even more desolate. There was nothing for miles and miles except flatlands. And a speeder bank. Once we grabbed one, I forced it to go as fast as possible past kath hounds and farm houses. I didn’t release my breath until the Enclave faded from sight in the rearview mirrors.

The Mando leaned on the door. "You’re acting like you just got away with murder or something.”

I peered back once then focused on the land before me. “Feels like it. The Masters would have dragged me back if I’d been caught.”

Canderous chuckled. “I still think you’re insane, by the way. Going to all this trouble to—what—rescue some kid you barely know?"

I gripped hard on the steering wheel. “He was my responsibility when I saved him on Taris. I was supposed to protect him. I failed.”

Canderous was silent as I steered the speeder through naturally carved roads in the cliffs.

"Do you have a plan? The clan outnumbers us twentyfold."

"I’ll have one," I shouted back. "And you’ll know it when we get there.”

We arrived at the caves when the large Dantooine moons were high above the horizon. The hills on the way there had been filled with restless kath hounds. All of them howled at us as we passed, running by as if attempting to flank us. Fortunately, our speeder outran them, but I worried they would attack us now that our guard was down.

I found a place hidden from the caves and stopped the speeder near the cliff’s edge. Booming of drums and lights from campfires flickered in the valley below. 

I kept my hand near the hilt of my borrowed lightsaber.

Down the hill was a whole encampment of them. Probably twenty or thirty armored Mandos sat around the campfires. A giant bonfire lit the entire valley making it next to impossible to sneak about the place. Tents pitched with grasses and sticks were set up haphazardly. Cages lined the center of the encampment and children of all ages were squished in there like paste. I kept low to the ground until I was flat on my belly in order to watch the lively bunch below. Canderous—thankfully—followed my example.

“So, pipsqueak, you gonna tell me your bright idea on rescuing the squirt?”

"Shh, I’m thinking."

Although they were far, I used a technique I read about one day when I was bored with the datapad. Using the Force, I focused onto the closest Mandos near the cages. They spoke crudely in their language about some kill they achieved in their last hunt. One of them threw down a pazaak card—calling a twenty. The other stood in a rage. 

Then, a man in black armor stormed up to them.

"What are you two idiots doing?" he shouted. "Pazaak? _Games_?" He threw the table to the ground. "You are to make sure that Sith doesn't come crawling back. You hear me? Watch the damn camp!"

They both trembled—obviously the two were not like the rest of their brethren in malice and bloodlust.

"Y-Yes, Mandalore."

I snorted. _Mandalore?_ Hadn’t that been the title of the leader of the Mandalorians? I doubt this guy was the actual thing. And what did they mean by Sith?

They scurried away from the table while picking up their credits—returning to their posts near the edge of the camp. Mandalore sighed—his mask creating static—as he stared off into the distant hills. I was worried that he would see us up in the cliffs—he probably had night or heat-vision in that visor of his—but he fortunately went back inside the caves.

Canderous edged closer.

"Well?”

I pointed to two Mandos standing at the edge of the camp. “I’ll knock those two bozos out with the Force. We’ll put on their helmets and armor and try to go unnoticed as we head for the cages.”

“Okay, sounds simple enough. What do we do after that?”

“I’ll cause a distraction. You get the children to safety in the nearest settlement.”

Canderous snorted. “That’s your plan? Really?”

“I was planning on sneaking them out, but they’re right there in the open.” I shifted. “Do you have any better ideas?”

The Mando only chuckled as his answer. 

We moved away from the cliffside towards a shallow dip at the bottom of a valley. The rocks skipped as we slid down towards the edge of the camp. The night bugs around us masked any sounds we made, but the Mandalorian masks would spot us if we weren’t careful.

Canderous stayed back as I snuck closer to the encampment. The only good place to hide was by a bush and a scraggly tree. The two pazaak playing Mandos held cortosis staffs and rifles at the ready—eager to shoot anything that moved. It was one thing to say I’d use the Force to take them down but it was another to follow through. I couldn’t hit them over the head with anything due to their armor. Neither could I directly confront them without causing a scene.

A kath hound howled in the distance. 

The booming power of the Force radiated in the air. I focused on one of the tree branches and it snapped with the pressure.

Both Mandalorians raised their blasters up at the disturbance.

“Who goes there?” the one on the left stupidly asked.

The one on the right pushed the other forward. “You go check it out. I’ll stay back in case it’s that crazy Cathar again.”

I pressed myself against the tree and watched the Mandalorian march closer and closer...until he was right next to me. His masked face turned, however, before he could alert his friend of my presence, I waved my hand.

“You will tell your friend it’s nothing.”

“It’s nothing,” he called back to the other guard.

“You want to take off your helmet.”

He took off his silver helmet without hesitation revealing a scarred ugly face. Then, I bashed that face in with the back of the lightsaber and he fell with a loud crack.

Ugh, forgot falling bodies made a racket.

“Toh?” The other Mando had begun to move again. “What’s going on?”

I pulled the unconscious Mandalorian into the bush which caused even more noise. Before I could slip on the helmet, the sound of a blaster heating up came from the direction of the other Mando.

“You—!”

Yet the rest of his words garbled when Canderous stabbed him in the neck from behind. His body unceremoniously joined his friend’s. An amused look on Canderous’ face reflected in the lowlight.

I sighed in relief. 

We stripped the Mandos of their armor and helmets and dressed as fast as possible. The helmet illuminated the ground around me in a bright blue. I nodded to Canderous and we marched towards the camp.

It helped that these brutes liked to wear masks. No one batted an eye as we moved towards the cages at the center of the camp. All of the Mandalorians chatted with each other in Mando’a while cutting up kath hounds for food, sharpening their cortosis blades, and playing dice. 

Canderous and I almost made it to the cages before _something_ had to happen.

“Hey, you!”

He’d called that out in Mando’a. I flinched then spun. A blue armored Mandalorian approached with aggression in his stride.

“Mandalore told you to stay at your post.”

Canderous flinched. “ _Mandalore_?”

I gave Canderous a look through the mask, yet the only response he had was the shaking of his shoulders as he held back a laugh.

“Yes…” Blue Mando crossed his arms. “Now, get back there or I will throw you to the hounds myself.”

I glanced about in order to make sure we weren’t being heard, then waved a hand. 

“We are supposed to be here.”

The Mando didn’t speak for a moment and I thought I’d failed at using Force persuasion on him because of the mask. Fortunately, he took a breath.

“You are supposed to be here.”

“Leave. Now.”

I sent more power into that command. Blue Mando shuffled backwards then dragged his feet back into the cave.

Canderous snorted. “That little Jedi trick has been useful, eh? It’s almost cheating.”

I shook my head. “It only works on the dull of mind. We better hurry before our luck in that department runs out.”

“Oh, I doubt it will.”

We both approached the three cages. Around ten children and five teens sat huddled together. I tried to find Liam amongst the group, yet the little tach monkey never met my gaze. Frowning, I bent down to the level of the children so that they could hear my voice over the racket. 

“Everyone.” 

No one looked at me—probably due to the mask. I lifted it from my face enough so that they could see I wasn’t a Mando. 

“We’re here to rescue you, but you can’t make any noise.”

The children all perked up and, fortunately, they did as they were told. I glanced at Canderous who nodded with his blaster ready in hand. 

_Now comes the fun part._

“You’re going to go with my friend here while I cause some chaos.” I put the mask back on and addressed Canderous. “I don’t see Liam.”

His silver mask tilted. “You think he’s in there?” He nodded to the cave. 

Kriff, I really hope he wasn’t in there. But I couldn’t leave without knowing. I bent down to the level of the kids again. 

“Are there any others?”

They all shook their heads in the negative. 

Great, so, this was all pointless. _No, not completely. There were still these children left to save at least._ I tempered my anger before I faced Canderous again.

“You’ll know when to start.”

In the center of the encampment was a massive bonfire. Surrounding said bonfire were rows of kath hounds being roasted on pikes. I made my way towards the fire, gripping the lightsaber at my belt. I turned and faced Canderous who was watching on—probably thinking I’d lost my marbles. And, honestly, yes.

The lightsaber hissed awake and a blue glow lit the ground along with the red of the blaze behind me.

All twenty Mandalorians shot up from their fixed positions. They pointed their blasters at me.

“Jedi!” one shouted. “And a stupid one at that!”

A red armored Mando stepped closer with a blaster raised. 

“How dare you wear our beskar'gam, Jedi scum.”

Before any of them could go on the attack, I focused on the flames behind me. The buzz of the Force gripped onto the coals of the bonfire. Then, with a push of my hand, hot projectiles rained down on the Mandalorians and the surrounding area. 

They immediately opened fire yet the flames acted as my shield. The hot balls of fire had begun to spread onto their tents and the dry grasses around them. A few had made direct hits and the ones who had barely any armor began to light ablaze. Their screams echoed into the night. I twisted the lightsaber to reflect the few bolts that ended up near me, but with so much happening none of the Mandos were able to hit me directly. Some had begun to try and put out the fires.

Canderous bashed the cage doors open. The children all followed him into the darkness of the valley. I smirked. At least I did something right. 

It was my turn to exit. 

But a vibroblade descended. I blocked with the lightsaber and flinched as the blue blade hissed with impact. I’d been so used to practice blades that I’d forgotten how dangerous it was holding the actual thing. The red masked Mandalorian cackled before swinging his blade once more. Twisting into a more defensive stance, I deflected the blade into the bonfire. Lifting my hand, I pushed with the Force onto the Mandalorian and he went flying after his sword.

I tried to ignore the screams as the Mando burned alive. I twirled the lightsaber as I faced my next opponent. _I need to get out of here_. But I’d inadvertently trapped myself within the blaze I’d started. _Figures_. I used the Force to push some of the flames aside, yet it returned only seconds later as it ate the tall grasses.

Another Mandalorian managed to find me. I gritted my teeth as I blocked his blow from cleaving me in half. He bashed my head before I could twist away, causing the loose helmet to fly off into the smoke surrounding us. It was then when I realized more of them had joined my opponent. 

“Kriff.”

Unfortunately, the realization that I was completely surrounded only distracted me from the large force connecting with my face.

* * *

_A golden mask surrounded by flames…_

* * *

My head pounded as I jolted awake after being splashed by water. A muffled voice echoed above me.

“Very _clever_ , Jedi.”

My gaze blurred and my hands shook as they found purchase on the rocky floor I’d been dumped on. I pushed up, however, a boot forced me back down. Surprisingly, these Mandos hadn’t chained me up. If my mind could just... _focus_ for one second, I could use the Force on the idiot stepping on me. 

“In one night you’ve done what three of your companions could not. You stole my _credits_ , destroyed my camp, and killed ten good men.” A black boot came into focus next to my forehead. “I should have let you burn. But I haven’t had a challenge like _this_ since the war.”

I tried to focus on the boot, however, no matter how hard I looked it remained a black mass. Eventually, I was dragged up to my knees. I lifted a hand, aiming at _whatever_. But the colors of the Mandos in the cave blended together and I almost threw up dinner. Kriff, what was wrong with me?

“Trying to use your magics? It won’t work. You’ve got a new piece of jewelry.”

A cold device strangled my neck. A neural disruptor—like the one Bastila had been put in by Brejik. Force...no wonder it took her forever to break free of that. It was impossible to focus or concentrate with this thing on.

A flash of silver clattered by my knees.

“Pick it up, Jedi. Let’s see you fight.”

I was shoved and released. My bare hands gripped the cold steel of the lightsaber. Before I could try to brandish the weapon, a large force kicked me in the ribs. Seething as I rolled away, I scrambled to my feet, tripping into a table that materialized. It tipped over and a choir of laughter roared around me.

My ears burned and I somehow found the button to ignite the blade. I held the staff in a shaky hold—probably looking as menacing as a Jawa. “Mandalore” watched through his dark helm then held a double-sided vibroblade in a dangerous stance. He twirled it with pride then tapped my blade as if he was swatting a fly.

Somehow, that caused me to stumble back, off balanced, yet I righted myself quickly.

“Look at you. Can barely stand without your precious Force.” He swiped at me again yet this time he cut my chest—skin deep. “Te Ani'la Mand'alor was weak to fail against a foe like you.”

“Mandalore” made a few more jabs at me. It became obvious that he was mocking me after I tripped and stumbled to the floor and he _didn’t_ skewer me in half. All the while, in desperation, I tried to _focus_ , yet only the pain from collapsing ever brought me closer to _breaking him apart_.

A chair fell into his path. 

That only caused him to laugh.

“Nice try.”

When I was kicked and thrown to the ground again, I felt _it_ . A light. It was distant, warm, inviting. Familiar. _Bastila._ Then, it all came into focus. The blood dripping from kath hound carcasses. The crowd of Mandos jeering on our “fight.” The smoke clouding the air. Glowing crystals in the walls pulsed with the power of the Force.

“Mandalore” held his blade to my chest. 

“Any last words, Jedi?”

 _Click_. 

I blocked the vibroblade with the lightsaber and disarmed him with a flick of my wrist. The neural disruptor, now broken in half, fell to the cavern floor. 

"You—!"

I didn't let him finish and stabbed him through the neck. It was sudden, too sudden. “Mandalore’s” body crumbled after I took his head from his neck, the thing bouncing off towards the bread rolls that had fallen off the table.

Utter. Silence.

Then, blasters all turned on me.

 _Kriff._

However, before they could shoot me to death, multiple _hisses_ erupted from the far side of the cavern. And I felt a familiar presence with them. 

Bastila along with Masters Zhar, Dorak, and Vandar held their lightsabers poised.

They didn’t say anything before they began their attack on the Mandalorians. Unlike my own chaotic fight previously, each of the Masters glided into battle as if it were a calm lake. Zhar used his proficient lightsaber skills to disarm and maim the melee wielding Mandos near the entrance. Dorak sent a large _boom_ and the Force froze half of the Mandos in place. Bastila twirled her saber and soared in the air like a brith. Master Vandar focused on the surrounding terrain and slammed rocks into the rest.

I didn’t even lift a finger as the Masters took out the rest of the Mandalorian hoard. Instead, I was in a state of shock both that they’d somehow rescued me and at how practiced they were as they took out their foes. 

When the last Mandalorian fell, only the sound of the crackling flames and the humming crystals remained.


	16. Dantooine: Trials

A crowd of speeders sat near the entrance to the charred encampment of the Mandalorians. The fires had died down to mere sparks and the sun had begun to mark the Dantooine sky a deep purple. The Masters passed without a look as if I didn’t exist. Bastila, on the other hand, stared at me with those gray eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, yet she didn’t give me a chance. Instead, she passed me like the Masters.

_Kriff, I really screwed up this time._

Bastila’s speeder was near the charred remains of the bonfire—there was no way I was going to ride back with any of the Masters. She started up the engine as soon as I joined her and sped back to the Enclave. The peeling paint on the edge of the doorframe became more interesting than the passing landscapes and farms.

Hopefully, Canderous got the kids out safe into the hands of the local authorities. I wasn’t sure if the Mando would abandon the kids in the wilderness or worse. For now, I had to trust that they were in good hands.

When we were half-way back to the Enclave, I finally felt something in the bond. _Rage_.

“What were you _thinking_?” 

I couldn’t answer. All I felt was numb. She gripped the wheel tight. I could tell she was trying to suppress her emotions. “When I sensed _pain_ and _distress_ in the bond, we discovered you ran off in the middle of the night. I had to convince the Council to go after you. We thought you were _dead_.”

“I can explain—”

“Explain? Oh, you’ll have a lot of explaining to do to the Council. They won't appreciate you running off to fight these _Mandalorians_ —”

“I didn’t just wake up and decide fighting the Mandos would be fun!” I was shouting now. Great. “They took Liam—that little kid. Not only that, they’ve been ransoming off all the local children and terrorizing the countryside.” I eyed the moons. “But...Liam. He’s still gone. Missing.”

_I failed. Again, and again, and again._

The Master's speeders had begun to disappear as they sped ahead of us.

“You’re injured.”

I blinked once before glancing at my shoulder and my chest. The cuts from “Mandalore’s” blade were red, staining my robes. Hadn't even noticed. I shrugged then winced as I began to feel the multiple cuts and wounds all over my body.

"I'm fine."

Bastila sighed. "You're always rushing ahead without thinking about the consequences. Why didn't you just tell the Council about the problem?"

I gave her a tired smile. "I don't know—maybe I just figured they wouldn't do anything about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what it means, Bastila." I glared at their speeders. "You know what the Masters would have said to me if I had come to them with this? They would have waved me away and said ‘There is no emotion, there is peace.’ But that’s a lie, isn’t it? What they actually mean to say is that the problems of the little people are beneath them.”

Bastila slacked in her seat. "That’s not true.”

"Is it?"

She pursed her lips and didn’t say anything for a long time. Silence. Again. I hated the silence between us. Usually it meant I said something wrong. And I probably did. Because, honestly, I didn’t know where that rant came from. 

Eventually, she whispered to herself. “Just...leaving without saying a word..."

I crossed my arms to guard from the sudden chill.

“I...will admit that I would have died back there if you hadn’t stalked me using the bond.” I sighed. “It’s a gift and a curse.”

She nodded as we passed a ridge. “Our connection allows us to glimpse into each other's mind. We can feel some of what the other feels. What I feel in you at times troubles me. I worry—"

"What? That I’ll turn to the dark side?" I rolled my eyes. "You don't have to babysit me, you know? Also, I'd rather _not_ become one of those yellow-eyed pale monsters thank you very much." 

She twisted the speeder away from a rock and followed the road past some settlement housing. Bastila hadn’t responded to my quips. I glanced to the left over my injured shoulder, scanning her face. It was, again, unreadable.

"What's wrong?"

Her grip tightened on the wheel. "You underestimate the power the dark side can have over you. First, you fear—you fear to fail, you fear to fall. Then you succumb to anger. Anger _that_ you failed. Eventually you become a shadow of your former self, hating...everyone. Everything. You won't even realize it once it has command over you. It begins as a domino effect of mistakes—tripping over and over each other until they pile up into a great abyss. And then all that's left is a pale husk filled only with the power of the dark side."

I put my eyes back on the road. For once I didn’t smile. "It sounds like you have some experience with it there."

She remained silent before she spoke again. "It's what happened to Revan. And Malak."

Oh. Them again. 

I huffed. "Master Vrook said they were always filled with the potential to fall to the dark side."

"Everyone has the potential to fall to the dark side. No, Revan and Malak ignored the dangers the dark side presented. They didn't believe they could fall—that they were above such moral dangers. Just like you keep _insisting_."

I clenched my teeth, remembering the coldness that spread over me after stabbing Mandalore through the neck. I’d felt a fear not only of what I had just done, but of myself as well. As if...I couldn't trust _myself_.

Maybe I should have listened to Bastila. Trusted in her words after all of my mistakes and mishaps. But I’d only heard another lecture—another Master trying their best to protect me. 

But I didn't need to be protected. 

* * *

"Do you know how much trouble you caused by going after the Mandalorians? How much damage you brought by burning the countryside with the Force? By ignoring and disregarding the rules—!"

"Master Lamar, calm yourself!"

As soon as we arrived at the Enclave, the Masters called an early morning emergency meeting. Master Vrook began by stating my training had been a mistake, that they shouldn't have opened me up to the Force, and that I should be exiled immediately. The others, however, wished to hear my side of the story. So, I told them all that I could without censoring myself. I felt that if I didn’t tell them the whole truth, they would have agreed with Lamar

Master Vandar sighed after I finished then leaned back in his chair. "And what did you need a lightsaber for, Apprentice?"

The stings on my shoulder had begun to become distracting.

"How else was I going to save the kid? The Mandalorians would have murdered me the second—"

"You are not _ready_ for a lightsaber." Master Vrook glared down at me. "I’m surprised we haven’t banished you for that alone."

"Master Vrook! There is no need for that." Master Zhar shook his head, his lekku waving. "While your intentions were in the right place, Apprentice, it is how you went about it that makes us all concerned. It is obvious to me now that you are in need of more training."

My heart pounding blood into my veins, my wounds grew in pain, and my eyesight blurred. There is no emotion, there is peace. _But you can’t even suppress your emotions, can you? You try and try but you continue to fail. It’s no wonder the Masters look down on you._ I clenched my fist. 

_Weak. Pathetic. Coward._

"I've trained long enough!"

The room grew silent with my outburst. Those... _words_ that came out of my mouth. Those stupid words! My mouth opened and closed, my face turning red not out of anger—more embarrassment. There is no emotion, there is... _damn it_! I didn't dare look back up at my Masters. Why would I? They were going to either punish me or worse. Say that I've fallen to the dark side and banish me like Revan and Malak and all the other Jedi that joined them.

But instead, Master Vandar spoke.

"If that is what you believe, young one."

 _What?_ I looked up—bewildered as to what he just said. All of them, except for Master Vrook, were giving me soft eyes. They were understanding and...saddened. As if they had been the ones to fail. Even Bastila appeared at a loss.

I stuttered. "I-I'm sorry, Masters. That was out of line."

"No, you are right, Apprentice," Master Dorak interrupted. "And you are forgiven. We have been too... _cautious._ Perhaps that hadn’t been the correct approach with you."

Master Vrook was red again. “No, we obviously haven’t been cautious enough.”

Vandar frowned. “Our fear of our pupil’s failures has clouded our judgement, Master Vrook.” This _somehow_ caused that grumpy old man to pause. Vandar continued. “Fear leads to the dark side. If not from within us then from within our students.” He faced me with a soft smile. “You have been ready for some time, Wes Gale, but we hesitated. In all our years we have never seen one who has mastered the initial training so quickly. You have done in weeks what many cannot do in years. We feared that your fast growth would have led you closer to the dark side. But it was not fair of us to assume the worst.”

Master Dorak nodded. “And assuming the worst has only planted seeds of anger and self-doubt within you.”

My shoulders sank instead of rising like it should have. They were talking about me beginning my trials to become a Padawan after all. I should have felt overjoyed that they finally saw the light. 

But instead I felt...nothing.

Bitterness formed in my mouth, and I glanced at Bastila who was expressionless. My mouth opened and closed, conflicted as to whether I should deny all of this. 

Master Zhar sat back in his chair, appearing older than before. "Go. Rest and heal your wounds, Apprentice. Tomorrow you will begin your Padawan trials."

Master Vander bowed his head. Dorak appeared serene as he bowed as well. While Vrook shook his head in disapproval.

And so the Council meeting adjourned.

* * *

I left with a heavy head while staring down Bastila's pigtails. Trying to figure out what the _fuck_ just happened. I’d expected shouting, lectures, discipline. Not forgiveness. Not a _reward_.

We entered the courtyard, heading towards the medical facility but I stopped before we arrived. I pulled a hand through my hair then sat at a bench—the same bench I’d sat and cursed my rotten luck at being trapped in a Jedi Enclave. Bastila stopped as well. I could sense that she was troubled through our Force bond. Who knows why.

I leaned forward, rubbing my face. 

"I don't deserve this _."_

She sat down beside me.

"No."

I glared at her. Yet, instead of that stuck up look she’d give me while lecturing about the dark side, she was smiling. And it was...odd. Coming from her. Unfortunately, that smile disappeared. Bastila's face scrunched as if thinking about some complicated battle plans. 

"If the Masters say that you are ready, then you are."

"I don't feel ready _now_."

She chuckled. "Perhaps that is what they wanted you to realize." Her gray eyes glossed over. "A Jedi must receive a considerable amount of training. They must learn to control their emotions and darker impulses. Often it takes years before using the Force is considered safe."

I looked off into the gardens of the Enclave. "But is that really _my_ fault? After all, you said that I’m using the Force 'instinctively.’"

“No, of course not. But it’s still a problem. The fact that you are so strong in the Force and have had such little training can have terrible consequences. Both for you and those around you."

"You can warn me when I do something bad," I said, smirking. "Blink once for dark side, twice for light."

Her serene face turned sour. "This is not a joke. The choices you make could affect both our destinies not to mention the Republic and the entire galaxy."

I raised my hands. "Way to put the entire fate of the galaxy on my shoulders, sunshine."

"Not just you. Both of us. Don't you see? Any reckless behavior done on your part will likely affect me as well."

I sat back. I hadn't realized that I could've been endangering Bastila with my reckless maneuvers. Usually, I was fine with risking myself, but her? I stared back at her, sincere.

"I won't do anything to harm you. _Ever_. I promise."

She pursed her lips. "I believe you truly mean what you say. For now." Her eyes wavered. "But sometimes it is not easy to keep such promises."

I grabbed and shook her hands. Her expression shifted into shock.

"I'm keeping this one."

Her eyes remained fixed within mine and I could feel the familiar confusing emotions she denied swirling around her. Guilt. Shame. Sadness. Loss. 

She flinched out of my grip then stood.

“I would rest in preparation for tomorrow if I were you. Building a lightsaber isn't easy. Nor are your trials ahead."

* * *

I sat within the repair shop after getting a shot of kolto from the Jedi nurses—ignoring Bastila's suggestion to rest. Instead, I distracted myself by deciding on the different lightsaber parts I would use. While there, I spoke to the owner of the repair shop and he allowed me to help fix some of their pieces of junk. Usually when something big was on my mind I resorted to tinkering. Good or bad.

I didn't notice until she jumped from behind, covering my eyes.

"Guess who?"

I cursed. "Mission—!"

The screw in my hand clanged as it fell into the protocol droid. Mission released me and I was about to shove my entire hand in there before realizing that—right—I can use the Force. The screw shot up. I caught it and continued, ignoring the teenager behind me.

"You didn't find him, did you?"

I twisted another screw out of the droid. The thing flickered on then off again. I slapped it then held it still as I took the cover off.

A tap on my shoulder.

"Dantooine to Wessy?"

The cover fell to the floor causing an ear splitting sound. I turned, glaring at her.

"Look, Mission, if you need to say something, say it."

I gave the wires a look, not liking what was there, so I took most if not all of them out, tearing at them like a kath hound to meat.

Mission sat next to me on the floor. "Fast talk and slick words get the job done." After taking all the wires out, I glanced down at her with a tilted head. She smiled. “It’s what my brother used to say to me.”

"You mean Griff?"

She nodded, deep in thought. "You know, I imagined walking into a cantina in one of the settlements here and seeing him under the pazaak tables drunk again. But...he would never come to a laid back place like this." I continued working, taking up new wires, connecting them to their proper places. I didn't pay the kid any mind as she spoke. "Hey...it's not your fault for losing him, you know? I shouldn't have assumed he was with you. I should've asked—"

I pointed the sonic driver at the young Twi'lek. "No." I waved it. "No, no, _no_. Dumb. That wasn’t your fault. Believe me."

"But if I hadn't—"

"You’re a kid, Mission. Liam was never your responsibility."

I returned to the protocol droid, using the sonic to meld parts together. Like a surgeon, I drove a wire into the heat, jumping as it sparked. I hissed, waving my hand from the burn.

It was caught.

"I'm not a kid you know. I'm fourteen years old. I can take responsibility for things." I felt my face soften, but I removed my hand and continued to work. Mission huffed. "Wessy...you don't have to carry your burdens alone, alright? If you hadn't saved him, he'd be dead like Gadon and Zaedra. He would've been on Taris."

I paused, staring at the broken droid before me. Perhaps I was being too hard on myself. I shook my head, a smile growing on my face.

"You’re right. I guess..." 

My eyes glanced over to the front of the shop where Zaalbar was standing, holding—

I jumped to my feet.

"What in all hells happened to T3?" I shrieked.

Mission cursed under her breath then tugged the sleeve of my robe in order to pull me back to the protocol droid. She laughed.

"Heh, that's nothing, Wessy. Now you can go right on back to work—"

"I told you to take care of him!"

"We did, we did...but he was stupid enough to get caught! It wasn't our fault that he made too much noise in the Matale's storage compartments!"

Zaalbar, as if in surprise, dropped the droid onto the ground. He growled a laugh himself.

"This is...nothing..."

T3-M4 was in a state. The top part of his chassis was tilted as if something smashed him into a wall and the glass of his optics were broken. I bent over the poor thing in order to inspect him, seeing if he could be repaired. Fortunately, his hard drive had been spared along with his sensory and memory units.

Zaalbar heaved him up again, growling an apology. 

Guess I had something else to fix.

* * *

“There is no emotion, there is peace.”

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.”

“There is no passion, there is serenity.”

“There is no chaos, there is harmony.”

“There is no death, there is the Force.”

I looked up from my cross-legged position on the floor after I recited the Jedi Code. The Jedi Masters nodded in approval—except for Master Vrook who hadn’t said a word throughout the ceremony. After my recital, Master Dorak used the Force on a blue crystal, setting it gently onto the floor in front of me...

Earlier that morning, before the ceremony, I was met with Bastila's lovely face in the mess hall. She told me I was to be taken to Master Dorak in the Archives. The Masters had to assign me a role.

I finished dumping my tray. “Why can't I just go with whatever? Who cares about roles like that?"

She huffed. "All Jedi are assigned a role that best suits them. For example, I am a Jedi Sentinel. The Sentinels work to ferret out deceit and injustice. Because of that we work closely with local governments. You will become what the Force decides for you."

"Or what the _Masters_ decide for me.” I rubbed my chin. "Also, I don't like blue, yellow, _or_ green."

She stumbled over her words. "T-that’s what you care about? The color of your lightsaber?"

“I would choose red, but that’s _unfortunately_ controversial." Bastila crossed her arms. I laughed nervously. "No...I didn’t mean it like that."

"Then _how_ did you mean it?"

"Joke?"

After she saw my humored smirk she huffed again, returning to her duty of taking me to the Jedi Archives. Compared to the rest of the Enclave, the Archives were dimly lit and stuffy. Shelves upon shelves were filled with datapads and holocrons. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been allowed in here before due to the Masters feeling I "wasn't ready" for the information within.

Bastila left me at the entrance. I passed many Knights and Padawans until I found Master Dorak sitting at a desk in the corner. His old eyes peered up at me from the datapad in his hand.

“Good morning, Apprentice. It is time for your evaluation.”

He reviewed with me the notes Master Zhar had taken about my training. Occasionally, he’d ask me questions about said notes. Despite feeling like a failure, most of what my Master had written down had been glowing. Especially when it came to mastering the Force.

And it was after half an hour of deliberation that Master Dorak decided that I was to become a Jedi Guardian.

" _Guardian_ _?_ " I had expected Consular after Zhar’s remarks. "I'm not _that_ good at combat. Am I?"

Master Dorak chuckled. "It is not only because of your combat proficiency that I have come to this conclusion. You have an innate desire to protect those weaker than yourself. No one but a Guardian would have gone to rescue a child kidnapped by raiders _without_ consulting anyone first.” I winced after the reminder of my recent escapade, but the Master hadn’t flinched with that comment. “You will be presented with your crystal at the ceremony. There, you will recite the Code and begin construction of your lightsaber. You have chosen your parts?”

“Yes.”

Last night. Painstakingly.

Dorak nodded. “It could take days for you to correctly set the crystal. Do not push yourself.”

After the ceremony, I took the blue crystal and made for the meditation room. I sighed as I walked the halls of the Enclave, peering into the crystal as if that could tell me my fate in these trials. I was assigned a room all to myself. The parts sat in a box on the only table there along with tools of many kinds. I took out the parts and placed them in the order they were going to be used then got to work. 

Building a lightsaber was nothing like tinkering with droids. At times, I had to use the Force in order to make the parts fit snuggly. That took most of the time. Fortunately, the meditation room was the perfect place to work in complete silence. And it took me hours just to create the casing. I inspected my creation with a frown. The three metal wing-like extensions stuck from the side to help with the grip. They ended at a sharp point past the ignition port. I wasn’t an artist by any means—it was gaudy—but for some reason the design called to me...

 _All that’s left is the crystal_. 

I sat then placed the empty shell of the lightsaber on the floor along with the crystal. Closing my eyes, I felt the pulse of the Force in the air. _Concentrate, Wes._ In my mind’s eye, the crystal and the shell hovered off the mat. I had to place it _perfectly_ using the Force without it touching the inner casing. Else it would combust like a lit grenade.

The crystal sank towards the opened case. It hovered there for a second before I released my grip on it through the Force. I breathed a sigh of relief when it didn’t explode in my face.

 _Now, the moment of truth_.

I grabbed the staff as it still hovered in the air, then hesitated before I pressed the red button

Blue light engulfed my face and I grinned after hearing my lightsaber hum for the first time. Truly a work of art. Maybe that's why the Council was so harried by me using another Jedi's weapon. Each lightsaber is like that Jedi's identity—their badge of office. 

And this one was mine.

I staggered out of the meditation room—exhausted. Starving. Food. When I entered the courtyard I spotted Bastila at a bench. _Don’t tell me she was waiting there this entire time._ She looked tense both physically and mentally through our Force bond. I wanted to spook her but she spotted me before I could try anything.

She eyed the lightsaber in my hand.

"You've finished? Already?"

I waggled it at her.

" _Nope_. I stole this one too." 

When I spotted Bastila's ill-humored expression, I chuckled. She relaxed her shoulders, shaking her head.

"Very funny. You need to bring it to Master Zhar. He’ll be the one to assign you your final trial."

I raised an eyebrow. "Any idea what this trial could be?"

"I don't know. Even if I did I wouldn't tell you."

Oh well, I tried.

Master Zhar was in the training rooms—as always—peering down at some meditating young ones. When I entered the room, he turned his attention to me—all of the young ones awoke from their meditations with wide eyes. I passed him my lightsaber and he ignited the blade with a hiss.

"You have done well, Apprentice. Not many place their crystals perfectly the first time." He extinguished the blade then handed it back to me. "I assume you want to take your final trial?"

I hooked my lightsaber to my belt. "Might as well get this over with."

The Twi'lek raised an eyebrow—his lekku twitching. He awoke the younglings from their meditation and they dispersed in gratitude while giving me awed stares. I tried to ignore their fawning as my Master asked me to sit on one of the cushions.

"First, a word."

I wondered, briefly, how long this _word_ was going to take. His expression turned dark, the mirrors reflecting his sorrow both ways.

"Did you know that Revan was my Padawan?"

I raised an eyebrow of my own. Him? Training Darth _Revan_? The Dark Lord of the Sith? I narrowed my eyes. I hoped his training wasn't flawed.

He smiled at my suspicious look. "I was among his first of _many_. Revan had trouble sticking with one Master over the course of his training."

"Why so many Masters?" I asked. "They didn't like him or something?"

"Oh no," the Twi'lek said, laughing. That had been the first time I’d heard Zhar laugh. "In fact we all loved him. Always had an air of charisma...” He trailed off as if remembering something nostalgic until his cool smile dipped. “But that ended up being a part of his downfall. He outpaced the Masters that trained him—became the youngest Jedi Knight, in fact. We should have seen that ambition, that passion, in him. Before it was too late."

I tried not to look impatient, however my words betrayed me. "What does this have to do with my trial?" 

"I know you found me too...protective. Weary even. But you have to understand. Revan fell due to our failures and ours alone. It is why we remain cautious, not only with you but with all of our students."

I frowned. "It's not like I want to become a Knight, you know? I didn’t even want to _be_ a Jedi in the first place."

His old eyes flickered with...something as I said that. It couldn't have been sadness. No...he wasn't like Bastila. He was a Master who preached about lack of emotions. Nothing should cause him grief, right? But he didn't look back into my eyes.

"That may be so.” He met my gaze again. “But let’s not dwell on the past. You wish to know what your trial is after all."

About damn time. I smirked, sitting back.

"Of course."

He nodded his head. “To the East over the Bithian River there is an ancient grove. Kath hounds have been infesting the area due to a taint. You are tasked with finding this grove in order to eliminate the taint within.” With my task set, I pushed myself to my feet then made for the door. But he called out. "Before you seek out this taint, Apprentice, a word of wisdom." I glanced over my shoulder. "Know that not all that succumb to the temptations of the dark side are lost forever."

* * *

Leaving for my trial at night would've been foolish—at least in the Council's eyes—so I decided to leave first thing in the morning. That and food called to me like the Force. 

Mission waved when I entered the mess hall. She sat with the Wookiee and Carth. It was a rare sight seeing them all together.

"Hey, Wessy. Done with your trials?"

I snorted. "I wish."

“Can I see it?”

Mission pointed to the lightsaber.

My face scrunched. 

“Hell no. It’s not a toy.”

She hissed as if she’d been struck. “Oh, _no_. You sound like Bastila now. Don’t worry, I’ll break your hypnosis!”

I chuckled. “Hypnosis?”

She clapped her hands around my face. I shook my head in embarrassment then made for the food. Gizka—again. I collapsed beside Carth who raised an eyebrow.

"Mission is right, you know. The Jedi have changed you."

I grabbed a Gizka leg and waved it at him. "I'm still a smuggler at heart, Orangy. Don't you forget it."

Carth sighed. "I spoke too soon there."

While I ate, Mission bombarded me with questions. _What was the ceremony like? Did I have to do something embarrassing? What was my next trial?_ I answered all of those questions with food stuffed in my mouth. I was starved after all.

Then, Canderous stormed in. And he was heading towards me. And he looked angry. Pissed.

He slammed the table causing my half-eaten gizka-leg to jump as if it still lived.

“ _Thanks,_ by the way, for abandoning me out there with _fifteen_ younglings.” I stared up into the ceiling. But the Mando continued his rant. “When you said we were going to hit one of the clans to find that kid, you failed to mention I was going to be a babysitter.”

Carth stuttered. “Wait... _what_?”

Mission and Zaalbar gave me confused looks along with Carth. Ah, right. They had no idea what happened. I continued eating, wiping off grease that drizzled down my bare chin that I shaved before for the ceremony. 

I met the Mando’s dark gaze.

“And the kids are…?”

“Didn’t even look back when I dropped them off at the nearest settlement.” He banged the table with a fist. “And you _still_ haven’t told me where the kriff you ran off to.”

“Sorry, but that’s how the pazaak game was dealt.” I took a drink of water. “‘Mandalore’s’ lackies caught me off guard. Would have followed you, but I almost got skewered.”

Carth gaped. “ _Mandalore_? What the hell are you talking about?”

Canderous chuckled. “ _That_ was not Mandalore. That was some imposter with his band of idiots. The true Mandalore wears the golden mask and that has been...lost.”

I held my chin and for once I didn’t press that point. 

Instead, Carth sneered at Canderous. “Good riddance. We don’t need another Mandalore to start a war right now.”

Canderous sneered back. "I don't feel as if there is any reason to go to war now—even under true banners."

Carth snorted. "A Mando that doesn’t want to fight? First I’ve seen it. Is it because you lost the war?"

"I do not loath how the war ended, _aruetii_. But for us Mandalorians it is only the fight that matters. Win or lose. And we lost."

"And it's a good thing you did."

“You served in the war, didn’t you, Onasi?” Canderous’s scar twisted as he smirked. “We may have faced each other in combat. What battles were you in?”

The Republic pilot grimaced then faced away from Canderous. “I don’t like talking about it. The horrors of war are something I'd rather not relive. ”

“The horrors of war?” Canderous cackled. “My people know only the glory of battle.”

“Then why were you some crime lord’s lackey on Taris?” Carth asked. “I don’t see the ‘glory’ there.”

The Mandalorian took a menacing step forward. "You saying I'm a coward, Onasi?”

I could literally feel the tension in the air. I put my fork down and watched them over my shoulder as I chewed.

Carth twisted in his seat with open arms.

“What if I am?”

Then, Canderous jumped the soldier, yanking him from the bench, pushing the table and its contents to the floor. I jumped to get out of their way before my tray landed on my lap. Mission and Zaalbar shot up with me. The Jedi stopped the chatter around us and watched as the two war veterans struggled. 

"Both of you, stop!" Mission shouted.

"Let me tell you something about cowards, _aruetii_." Canderous asked. He pulled him closer—the Republic soldier glaring lightsabers at him. "They hide behind fleets five times our size, let a Senate of weak-willed imbeciles make decisions for them, and rely on a Jedi wearing one of our masks to win their battles. And we still made the Republic tremble before we fell.”

Carth looked as if he was going to reach for his pistols. 

“Nice speech.”

Before Canderous could punch Carth in the face, an invisible wave pushed them away. They both staggered after I used the Force to pry them apart then glared at me.

I waved at the tray. “My _dinner_ is on the floor now. Thanks a lot!”

Carth gave me that unimpressed look while the Mando rolled his eyes and twisted on his heels to leave the mess hall. The young Jedi all whispered to themselves after witnessing that violent scene. Mission sank back, sighing in relief, and Zaalbar put down the fork that he looked prepared to plunge into the Mandalorian's skin.

Carth shook his orange jacket into place as he sat back down in his seat.

"You really shouldn't piss off a Mando," I said. 

Instead of glaring at me, as I expected, Carth smirked.

"It was worth it."

* * *

I packed then left for the grove early the next morning. Following Master Zhar’s vague directions, I drove a speeder to the edge of a deadened forest. The wind knocked the bare branches together and a cold chill seeped through my robes. Something...dark whispered in the wind. The taint was close.

The gray trees whistled due to their hollow trunks and I made my way towards that dark sensation. I traveled for an hour at least before I came across any form of life.

An old Jedi held his bleeding chest while leaning on one of the dead trees. I rushed to the old man when he finally collapsed to the dry dirt. I helped him to a seated position.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 

He smiled through the pain. "Ah...don’t worry about me. I am fine, Apprentice."

“Yeah, _sure_ , I’ll believe that when Gamorreans fly.” As I dug through my bag for a medpack, I paused. “Wait, do you know me?"

After all, _Apprentice_ wouldn't have been someone's first guess with my age and all.

He laughed weakly. "Of course I know who _you_ are.” He winced when I administered a shot of kolto. “You are all what the Council talks about nowadays."

I tried to recall a lesson from him as I helped wrap his wounds, but I couldn’t place his face. "I’m sorry, but are you one of the Masters? I don’t remember you..."

"Do you only remember Masters, Apprentice?"

I mulled on that before I stood. “You don’t happen to know where a grove filled with kath hounds would be, do you?”

"Ah, the grove? I felt a disturbance in the cliffs past that fallen tree. There is a bridge over the river." He hissed as he tried to stand. "I can sense the amount of taint spread there. Be careful, young one, and do not underestimate the dangers." He waved a hand. "But I'm sure you wish to be off, don't you?"

I gave him a concerned look. “Do you need help getting back?”

“Oh, no, Apprentice, I’ll be fine, thank you. You’re medpack was more than enough help.”

Before the old man could limp away, I called back. "Wait, you know my name but I'm afraid I've never heard yours."

"Nemo," he said. "I am Nemo."

"Nemo?” I glared at him. “Is that a joke?”

“Why would I joke about my name, young one?”

“Well, it means _no one._ Who would actually name you _that_?"

“What if that was something I named myself?”

I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. And I thought I’d gotten over the Jedi weirdness... 

“Why...why would you call yourself something so stupid?”

He chuckled as he began to limp away again. "The importance you put into a name is misleading, young one. You of all people should remember that."

Before I could ask what he meant, he disappeared past the dead trees like a ghost. Perhaps I had hallucinated that entire encounter. It certainly felt like it. I shrugged, then headed in the direction “No one” pointed me to.

In the distance—a howl. Kath hounds bound and weaved through the trees. Most of them watched me from a distance. Others were brave enough to attack. I took out my lightsaber as three began to circle me. Their red and white coats blurred as they pounced. The blue of my lightsaber illuminated the ground as I chopped the attacking hound in half. The other two scattered after the first one died to my blade.

After that, I kept the lightsaber close.

The sun was setting when I arrived at the river. Beyond it over the bridge, a darkness cloaked the overgrown trees with a _hum_. The tainted grove—just as Master Zhar described.

I crossed the rickety bridge over the fast rapids. The grove was overgrown with vines and weeds. The place was so dark and thick with foliage that I had to take out my lightsaber to both cut and light my way through. In the process, I stepped on small kinrath spiders and other bugs. 

Eventually, I came across a clearing. The taint had become as thick as soup now. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I looked on towards the source. An ancient shrine of obsidian rocks encircled the place. Many dead bodies of both Mandalorians and kath hounds littered the center. And in the middle of it all, a meditating Cathar muttered to herself words that were indecipherable. She looked familiar. I saw her around the Enclave a few weeks ago, although I couldn't remember her name.

That’s when I noticed the sleeping pack of kath hounds in the bloody chaos.

 _Lovely_.

I tried not to wake her from her meditation as I moved towards the Cathar with my lightsaber staff at the ready. She was the source of the dark taint. _Sith_. Had to be. If I could get the jump on her, my trial would end as soon as it had begun.

I calmed the kath hounds with the Force and stepped over them with light feet. If I killed the hounds, the hum of my lightsaber would have woken her. Eventually, I was close enough to strike her in the back. However, before I made the killing blow, I hesitated. Master Zhar’s voice drifted into my consciousness. 

_Know that not all that succumb to the temptations of the dark side are lost forever._

In my hesitation, one of the kath hounds was released from my grip and started to growl.

Both the Cathar and the pack sprung awake in a flurry. I cursed as ignited my lightsaber, beheading one of the hounds in the process. The pack scattered. The Cathar's lightsaber hissed awake—her red blade skimmed the ground, burning the grass. Her yellow eyes met mine—the kath hounds rubbed at the feet of their queen.

She licked her lips, fangs apparent. "I shall deal with the prey, lovelies," she muttered to her pack. "I will make him _suffer_ for trying to take me unawares."

She shouted, hitting me hard with her lightsaber. I reflected the blade using a quick form to retaliate. The Cathar's yellow eyes widened as she spun away from my blade before it reached her neck. we continued exchanging blows, none of us ever getting close to hitting each other.

Eventually, she must have grown tired of our game. Raising her hand, she pushed me with a powerful Force wave. _Kriff, she packs a punch_ . I flipped through the air into the foliage behind me, yet I managed to backflip and land on my feet. The kath hounds had begun to swarm again. I glanced back at the bridge. _A choke point_. They couldn't all attack at once there. The vines and grasses scratched my arms as I ran back the way I came. The Cathar followed with her piercing screams and hungry kath hounds.

At the bridge, I twisted and held my lightsaber in front of me with both hands. The rushing river flowed below and in the distance a waterfall roared. The ropes holding the bridge together creaked with pressure.

The Cathar strode onto the bridge with a sharp grin. Without any room to circle me, the kath hounds didn't follow their master.

"The Council sent you to kill me, didn’t they?"

Before the Cathar could attack, I rushed forward, meeting her red lightsaber. She kicked at my groin but I was quick to jump back. All the while she sneered, whiskers flaring. While she was consumed with anger, I flicked my saber to her side, causing her to block with an awkward hold. I pushed into the attack, relying on my strength to weaken her block. But she never gave in. Instead, she screamed bloody murder as she tried to use to Force on me again. I was prepared this time.

I flipped back to the opposite side of the river and, without thinking, cut the suspension rope holding the bridge up.

 _Kriff._ I...hadn’t meant—

The bridge collapsed and the Cathar didn’t use the Force to jump after me. Instead, she screamed in terror as she fell into the rapids...


	17. Dantooine: Trip into Darkness

The Cathar tumbled fast while shouting insults at me as she rushed closer to her destination. Over a waterfall to her death.

I surprised even myself when I went running after her.

Using the Force, I fell one of the weaker dead trees downriver so that she was caught by it. She grabbed the log and coughed—her fur blotched with red, probably from hitting a few rocks on the way down. The river’s edge was slippery so I was careful not to get swept away as I leaned onto the broken tree’s roots. I held my arm out to the dangerous Cathar.

"Grab my hand!" I shouted over the rushing river.

The Cathar's yellow eyes narrowed. "Why are you saving _me_ ?" she screamed. "I have fallen to the dark side! You _cannot_ save me! Not anymore! I can never go back."

The log slipped and I sucked in another breath. The river was going to wash her away if she didn’t _listen_. I reached out further, hoping that she would pull herself closer to take my hand. 

"That's not true." I placed my foot on the tree, balancing. "You can be saved, I know it!"

Her face darkened—all compassion lost. 

"You know nothing. Nothing of my sorrows—my suffering!”

“How am I supposed to know if you won’t tell me—”

“I killed my Master!" She slipped, holding tight onto the log. "I struck Master Quatra in a rage while training. She was slow with me. She didn't think I was ready. Now...I can never go back. She's dead. I...killed her." 

What she described...it almost sounded like my situation. Eerily so. Of course, it hadn’t gotten to the point of murdering Master Zhar. But what if it had? What if, in a fit of rage, I accidentally struck him to death during our training? Would I have run off into the hills like this Cathar and then succumbed completely to the dark side? Before I would have said that I knew myself enough to know that something like that would have been impossible.

But maybe everyone _did_ have the potential to fall to the dark side.

She looked down the river, towards the waterfall.

"I should let go...die. It’s what I deserve."

I sank back. "You don’t really believe that, do you?"

“I’ve become a Sith. There’s nothing left for me now…”

Her claws began to detach from their grip on the wood.

Before she let go, I focused with the Force and flipped her onto the log. Her feline eyes faded in shock and I felt the cold wash away—as if the taint had been cleansed in this river. She grew a tighter grip on the log now. This time, instead of throwing herself to her death, she pulled herself after me.

Something _cracked._ The Cathar yelped.

Her weight had caused most of the log that wasn’t rooted into the soil to break off. I rushed forward then grabbed a hand, wincing in pain as her claws dug into my forearm. I took her entire arm in mine then hoisted her onto shore. We both stood, taking in deep breathes, and watched as the log tumbled down the waterfall.

We collapsed cold and shivering both from the fight and the struggle. I stood quickly—unsure if she was going to attack again. But the Cathar coughed into the ground—blood matted the back of her head. She no longer had her red lightsaber—it had washed down the river—forever lost. Because of that, I relaxed.

She looked up at me in awe. 

"Why have you saved me?" she asked. "Even I wouldn't have saved me, so tainted by the dark side as I am."

I got to a knee so that we were more at eye level.

"You never fell to the dark side," I said. "Not really."

She pounded a fist into the mud. "How could you _say_ that? I attacked you! With full on lust for your blood! How could you say I _didn't_ fall to the dark side?"

"You wanted to let go," I said. "You _regretted_ taking your Master’s life. Would a Sith regret?"

She limped to her feet and more water dripped off her fur. Her eyes softened, their bright yellow hues dulling. She held her face with both hands.

"But the Masters—"

"Forgive." I stood from my kneel. “They’ve forgiven me for my stupid mistakes. They weren’t as bad as yours but...there’s no harm in going before them.”

The Cathar finally cracked a smile—one that didn’t lust for my blood. "I suppose you are right. Perhaps if I appear truly repentant, the Council might take me back." She eyed me. "I never caught your name?"

"Wes Gale," I said.

"Juhani.” She bowed. “And I'm...sorry for attacking you."

I shrugged with a smirk. "None taken."

Juhani sighed then sat on a rock by the river facing the waterfall that had almost been her death. The kath hounds had vanished after their old master’s fall into the river. Their howling echoed far within the forest.

She dipped her head. "I will beg for the Council's forgiveness, as you've suggested." She closed her eyes. “Give me a moment. I need...to meditate on this.”

Honestly, I needed to rest as well after all of that. I picked a spot underneath another one of those dead trees to wait for Juhani to finish. I wondered, briefly, why I saved that Cathar when so many other Sith tried killing me before. 

_How was she any different?_

* * *

It wasn’t a question on whether the Council would or wouldn’t forgive Juhani.

When we arrived at the Enclave that night, Juhani and I both went before the Masters. There, the prodigal Cathar bowed low and asked to be forgiven for killing her master in a fit of rage. 

Master Vandar’s answer was immediate.

“There is nothing to forgive, young one.”

Master Quatra, alive and well, limped into the Council room on crutches. The old woman—who I now recognized as that rude old hag that ran into me a month ago—smiled at the Cathar.

“Juhani.” 

“Master…” The Cathar got to her feet in shock then rubbed the back of her head. “I really am a fool…”

The old woman chuckled to herself. “Come, we must speak further.” When Juhani arrived at her Master’s side, the old woman raised a white brow. “You seem to be missing a lightsaber, Padawan...

When they left, I turned again to face the Council. For once, they all gave me proud looks—even Vrook.

Master Vandar smiled down at me. “It is good to see Juhani has returned to the way of the light. You are to be commended for your role in this. Your actions give us great hope for the future.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t just kill her, Master Vandar. She hadn’t truly fallen.”

My own Master, Zhar, “hummed.” “An interesting interpretation, Apprentice. By all means, Juhani had fallen to the dark side after she struck her Master in a rage. What made you believe this wasn’t the case?”

I stared past the glass domed ceiling of the Jedi Temple to the night sky beyond. “She regretted all that she did. She only attacked because...she didn’t think there was any other way.” Eventually I met the stares of the Council again. “But that was just a stupid lie she told herself.”

The Masters all gave each other looks. Eventually, Master Zhar stood and walked until he was in front of me. His smile was wider than I’d ever seen it. If I hadn’t been tired and possibly hallucinating, I swear he had some tears stuck in his eyes.

“Congratulations, Apprentice. Or should I say congratulations, Padawan? You have passed all of your trials and have proven yourself worthy of joining the Jedi. Let me be the first to welcome you as a full-fledged member of our Order!”

He began to clap politely and the rest of the Masters joined in as well.

* * *

"Get up."

I awoke facedown—without my pillow—in my own sweat. These visions weren't as bad since I opened myself up to the Force—at least when it came to the “Revan and Malak scheming” variety. No, instead the dreams were foggy and incomprehensible. I don't remember anything from them except this sensation of terror.

Bastila's forever annoyed face peered down at my half-naked body with lidded eyes.

I smirked. "Good morning, beautiful. You should storm into my room and wake me up everyday so that I can see your lovely—"

She threw robes at me, interrupting my wonderful suggestion.

"Shut up and get dressed. We're leaving."

I removed my robes from my face as I sat up—wondering briefly where she got them—then peered up at her reddening face. 

"Already? What time is it?"

"0600."

I frowned. "Can I at least have some caffa?"

"If it’s _really_ that important." She twisted to leave. "We go in half an hour."

"Yes, your highness," I threw out after her as the door swished shut.

I staggered to the fresher. As I washed my face, the mirror reflected a tired newly initiated Padawan. A small braid was hidden behind my right ear tangled with the rest of my hair. Proof that I had passed my trials and had become a true Jedi. And, honestly, I still didn't know what to think about that. The Wes from a month ago would have gone running for the hills at the mention of being inducted into the Jedi "cult." But that Wes didn't know the feeling of the Force. And...I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back to being that Wes anymore.

After a shower, I grabbed a caffa then strolled through the gardens one last time before we made this trip to the ruins Revan and Malak visited. When I arrived at the gate out to the wilderness of Dantooine, surprisingly, Bastila was nowhere to be found. Couldn't she have at least come here earlier than me if she was _so_ insistent on keeping a schedule?

Someone called out to me. I twisted around and Carth approached from the shadows of the hall.

I threw a quick salute. "Mornin’."

He rubbed the back of his neck then stood next to me as if he was waiting for someone. I leaned against the metal wall. At first I eyed him with suspicion then I gazed out into the courtyard in anticipation for Bastila to _actually show up_. I waited for five minutes before I coughed. Loudly.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere?" I asked. "Go do whatever it is that you Republic soldiers do. Shout at...Canderous or something."

Carth backed away. "Snappy with the orders there. Alright, _sir_."

When he mockingly saluted I watched the sky. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm coming with you two. I heard that the Council discovered that Malak has some sort of Star Forge. The Republic Navy needs to know about anything the Sith were involved in."

It sounded like he hadn't been told _how_ the Council figured out Malak had a Star Forge.

I smirked. "So, you're the Republic's spy?"

"You're still going on about that?" He shook his head. "I'm not a spy. You’re not a spy. We’re not spies. Drop it."

"You have something to confess, Onasi?"

His eyes narrowed. " _Anyway_ , I'm here under Admiral Dodonna's orders. I'm short both a fleet and the Endar Spire to command. What else am I supposed to do?"

"You only had one command ship?" I threw up my hands. "The only command ship you had and you named it _that_?"

The commander frowned. "That's what you—wait, you’ve said that before. What's wrong with the name of my ship?"

"What _was_ wrong with it you mean?" I didn't wait for his response. "And there's plenty wrong with that stupid name. You could've named it _The Titan_ or _The Revenge—_ classy, blunt, terrifying—but you named it the _Endar Spire._ How the hell is that supposed to instill fear in your enemies? What even is an _Endar_ anyway?"

Carth rubbed his face either defeated by my excellent points or regretful of the choices he made in life.

"Your priorities and your lack of them never cease to amaze me."

Before I could snap back, Jedi Princess Bastila marched into the courtyard—ten minutes late. I could tell she was embarrassed by that—not because of the bond, no—because her face glowed red.

I crossed my arms with a smirk. "Better late than never?"

"Before you say anything—" She glared at me very _un_ -Jedi like. "—the Council meeting went on for longer than I expected."

I uncrossed my arms. "Wait... _Council meeting_? What did they want you without me for?"

Carth narrowed his eyes at the Jedi, probably more suspicious than I was. For once I didn't fault him for his paranoid behavior.

Bastila glanced away. "They simply warned me about the dangers of the ruins and how to...protect you when the need arises."

"And they didn't want to tell me how _I'm_ supposed to protect _you_?"

" _Protect—_ I don't need your protection. That and you are newly trained in the Force while I have had years of experience—"

"So did Revan and Malak and look what happened to them," I said with a wave.

Carth inched closer to us in order to butt his head into the discussion. "Why is the Council even sending a newly initiated Padawan to these ruins if they're 'filled with the dark side' like they say? Why not just send you, Bastila?"

At that neither of us had answers, mouths flapping up and down like fish from Manaan. I don't know why we kept our bond a secret. Probably because it was embarrassing that this annoying Jedi was connected to my mind _somehow_. After all, I didn't want to tell the world that Bastila knew all my "deepest, darkest feelings'' and that we "shared each other's dreams." Sounded like some mushy holofilm or something. Well, that and it would give Carth another excuse to hound me down. The latter was the more likely scenario.

I glared at Bastila—trying to mentally tell her not to blab to the commander about our bond.

Fortunately, she shook her head, pigtails waving. "While we stand here questioning the Council's decisions, Malak continues his quest to conquer the Republic. The faster we discover what exactly this Star Forge is, the faster we can restore peace to the galaxy."

I sighed, thanking the Force that Bastila didn't blurt about our bond. I wondered why she hid something like that from the commander though. It was in her resume to blurt out terrible things about me.

Carth raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, _fine_ , but I will get to the bottom of all this. I guarantee it."

“You said that last time,” I cut in. "Did you discover anything yet?"

That glare he sent me indicated that he did _not_ appreciate that quip.

After that wonderful conversation, we followed the Jedi, her boots stomping past the Enclave's automatic doors. We gathered in the front of the speeder bay as Bastila briefed us on the ruins. They were close to that tainted grove—a few kilometers away in fact. They were so close that I wondered if I accidentally walked past them on my way to deal with Juhani. It took us an hour to travel to the dead forest with the speeder. We all remained quiet even after I tried to start up a conversation or two. Both Bastila and Carth were still at each other’s throats. And, honestly, they were both getting at mine.

We arrived at the edge of the forest. It was just as foggy, dank, and mysterious as before. Once we left our speeder behind, we began our trek through the fog.

Unfortunately, travel through the forest hadn’t been as quiet as it was while we sat in the speeder. Bastila rambled on about information the Council already told me about—dangerous ruins, a Jedi Knight who never returned, _blah, blah, blah_ . Carth listened intently— _very_ intently—while I tuned the Jedi out and instead worried over what we could possibly discover at the ruins.

“Wes!”

Bastila and Carth had stopped far behind me. I stopped with them then twisted my head in their direction.

"Um...what did you say?"

Bastila huffed. "I _said_ to at least pay attention once we're within the ruins."

"Great job doing that so far..." Carth muttered.

I grew hot then stabbed a finger at the Jedi. "I pay attention all the time...when it's actually important."

"And what I'm trying to tell you isn't important?" Bastila asked. "You know what, at this point I'm not surprised."

"What do you mean you're not _surprised_ ?" I held my hips. "I'm not _surprised_ that you ramble on like an Ewok. Or a Wookiee. Or any other species that's hard to understand."

" _Hard to understand_?" Bastila shrieked. "I'm not hard to understand—and I do not ramble!"

"On the contrary—I wouldn't even call it rambling. At least that sometimes makes sense."

She grew red, chest puffing, lips pouting. " _Anyway_ , let's move on before you continue with your petty remarks."

She stomped off again yet went so fast she became a blur. I ran after her—leaving Carth far behind. When I finally caught up, I heard her muttering "There is no emotion...there is peace," under her breath. Her face was still scrunched together and her frown dipped low. 

"You know, even if I couldn't sense your emotions through the bond, I bet I could tell you exactly what you're feeling," I said over her shoulder. She didn't answer as she increased her speed. I matched her pace. "Ah, yes, silence, it indicates that you're...curious. Interesting. How am I, Wes Gale, able to read the stoic Bastila Shan? Well, I will reluctantly reveal my secrets." Her face scrunched and wrinkled. "You always make this cute face when you're angry. Sort of like a kinrath pup—"

She twisted sharply on her heel then dug a finger into my chest

"Why must you be so _impossibly_ infuriating?" 

A few birds flew away from their perch along with some disturbed kath hounds. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if half the wildlife on Dantooine was startled by her shouting.

I heard footsteps behind me, then the huffing of Carth who finally was able to catch up.

"Not...everyone...can move that fast...you know?" 

We both ignored him.

"How am _I_ infuriating?" I pointed with my thumb at myself. "I'm _amazing_. Charming. Handsome even. The only thing infuriating is your sense of humor."

"Oh _please_. Half the galaxy couldn't contain your ego."

"And the other half wouldn't know what they're missing," I said.

"Why do you _insist_ on annoying me?"

"I'm not annoying anyone, princess. You just don't want to have the last word."

" _Princess_. Why you—! Why can't you just—!"

"Force just _please_ stop. Both of you fight like an old couple, I swear."

" _What?_ " 

We both shouted that at Carth after that remark.

The animals around us bustled to safer branches. Safer than being near the princess for sure. When I glanced towards Bastila, her face was scorching red as if she had a fever. When she noticed me eyeing her, her “Jedi Mask” replaced that expression...

"Let's go before you decide to say anything else."

I didn't have to guess who she was referring to.

She left with a stomp. Red began to spread on her face again—she could barely keep up that stoic façade.

Carth coughed in his fist then gave me a raised look. A _humored_ type of look. A look I did not like.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You've got a problem, Orangy?"

"Nothing just...good luck. You'll need it."

And he followed Bastila, leaving me confused behind him.

* * *

The forest ended an hour into our journey and we followed a broken trail into the wild crags. I felt the darkness before we even saw the first sign of the familiar structures. We were as silent as meditating Jedi as we walked through the mist past tall obsidian-like statues. The ruins themselves appeared just as they did in the vision—domed, cold, alien. We arrived at the ancient stone door and glanced between ourselves—worried as to what we would discover.

"This is where Revan and Malak began their fall to the dark side," Bastila muttered. "This is where they sought out the Star Forge."

"I'll say," I said, rubbing the back of my head.

I waved my hand at the door. The ancient metal creaked as it opened—the sounds echoed endlessly within the ruins. A cold ran down my spine—probably Bastila’s too. A heavy fear as breathable as the air itself seeped out of the ruins like Juhani’s taint. There were no lights within the temple, so I took out a torch and used the beam to search the crevices.

I chuckled despite a fear clogging my breath. "Nice place we have here. Right next to the Tarisian sewers in vacation material."

"This is no time for jokes."

Bastila walked into the ruins—fearless. Carth and I reluctantly walked in after her. As we traveled through the darkness, I made sure to point the light in front of us. Yet, somehow, even the light didn't chase away most of the shadows.

"I wonder…” Carth interrupted the silence. “What did Revan and Malak find here?"

"No use asking when the answer's right in front of us," I said.

Bastila didn’t even respond.

We walked in the darkness until we arrived at another door—this one was also familiar. There were shadows in the Force—dark shadows that poisoned the air. I recognized this sensation. Revan and Malak. And, now, if things didn’t go right here, whatever happened to them could happen to me.

Before we entered the next room, a hand grabbed my shoulder.

"If you don't feel ready..."

Bastila was giving me that worried look. I sighed.

“I’ve been ready,” I said as I shook off her hand.

The second door crumbled open. Bastila and I gripped our lightsabers—Carth his pistols. An ancient spider-like machine awoke with steam rising from its back. A deep glottal resonated within the chamber as it spoke some language that I didn't understand. Bastila and Carth looked as if they didn’t understand either. I lowered the torch in my hand as I edged closer.

"Look... _thing_..." I interrupted it. "I don't understand what you're saying." Its language changed into something more barbaric. But I still didn't understand it. I threw my hand. "All of this for nothing?"

Bastila arrived at my side. "I believe it's trying to speak to us by cycling through languages that it knows."

" _Are you builders or are you slaves_?" the droid asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "Hey, that's Selkath isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yes, but it sounds ancient. How would this droid know ancient Selkath?"

" _I was programmed to understand the languages spoken by the slaves_ ," it said. " _You are like the ones before neither builders nor slaves. If you desire the Star Map then you must complete the trial."_

"Trial?" I asked "What trial?"

" _You need to complete a trial in order to gain access to the Great Indestructible Empire's Star Forge._ _Only the builders are allowed this knowledge._ "

"What is the Star Forge?" I asked. "And who are the builders?"

" _The builders are...the builders. The Star Forge is the greatest achievement of the Great Indestructible Empire_."

I chuckled. "Indestructible...sure." I faced my two companions. "I doubt that this droid was programmed with information about anything useful..."

Carth sighed. "So, we'll complete some kind of trial then?"

I grabbed my lightsaber from my belt. “Maybe Revan left the door unlocked..."

The way Bastila eyed me told me the answer to that was going to be a resounding _no_. The three of us entered the room with the machine. Unfortunately, the door past the machine was sealed. I punched the stone. Should have expected this...

"Well, guess we have no choice," Carth said.

When I turned towards the other door in the room, I spotted a bundle leaning against the wall. I pointed the torchlight at it, revealing that the bundle was in fact the body of a Jedi _._ I rushed over and pushed the body over to reveal the Jedi's face.

"Nemo," Bastila whispered in horror. "He was sent to scout out the area by the Jedi Council days ago..."

His body was riddled with blaster burns, his face also scarred with them. I laid him down on his back then reached over to close his eyes. Whatever killed him did so without a lick of mercy. And to think that I just saw him days ago...

"What happened to him? Did that _thing—_?" I pointed the light at the droid. "Did you kill him?"

The ancient droid buzzed awake. "I do not possess a means to attack."

He must've been killed by the trial. Was that why he was injured yesterday? Maybe he tried opening one of the doors, fled when he was attacked, then tried to go back to the Enclave. But then why did he come back here?

This trial was starting to sound more dangerous by the minute.

I stood and approached the door to this “trial.” Bastila’s expression was determined while the soldier appeared weary. I sighed.

"Here goes nothing."

I opened the only door left and was immediately ambushed by blaster fire. I unleashed my lightsaber in time with Bastila's double bladed one. The droid roared at us and a blue shield flickered to life. As we volleyed back the blaster fire, the bolts bounced back into the wall. Carth stopped shooting his own blaster after the appearance of the shield.

"Grenade!" he shouted.

Bastila and I dashed to the side to avoid Carth's grenade. The ion explosion fizzed and the droid was exposed to our lightsabers. I grinned at Bastila who ignored me. Instead, she soared at the droid and cleaved it in half in one stroke. The red metal sizzled as the parts collapsed into a heap.

I huffed. "I get the next one, alright?"

Carth backed up. "You _want_ there to be another one?"

"There’s always going to be ‘another one’, Orangy."

And there were others. Many others. We followed the winding halls which were filled with more of these droids. Eventually, Carth ran out of grenades, so Bastila and I had to use the Force to knock out the shield unit from within. The labyrinth ended in another bland room. Only this one had a glowing terminal—the only light in this place so far. Bastila approached it and put the datapad in the bay. After pressing a few things on the screen, she glanced back.

“Is this...a joke?”

I walked up to her side and read out part of the translated passage. “Which planets are considered living or dead...? Really?” 

Maybe the “Indestructible Empire” was some kind of Sith inside joke or something.

Once we completed that "trial,” we walked back the way we came. I pointed the torch light into the passive droid's face. "You know that insulted our intelligence, right?" The droid didn't respond. "Any sheltered idiot from Tatooine could figure that out."

"Would you rather it be difficult?" Bastila asked.

"What type of 'Indestructible Empire' asks a question like that to protect their super weapon?"

"One that isn’t indestructible?" Carth added with a smile.

Bastila groaned at us before she made for the northern door. The vision we shared flashed in my mind. Revan and Malak entered this room and a blinding white and blue light hummed from the darkness. Funny how their trip into darkness started within the light. Bastila hesitated before the door as if troubled by what she felt. And I could feel that fear in the bond. She was shaking so much so that I placed a hand on her shoulder. 

She jumped back as if stung, then stuttered.

"I-I'm sorry. I just—"

I used the Force to open the door—the locks cracked open.

A bright light flashed. The same light within the vision faded and revealed an ancient device humming. Stars and planets swirled around forming our galaxy. I frowned.

"This isn't the Star Forge," I said. "A star map?"

I walked into the room in order to get a better look at the white-blue light of the map. Bastila eventually entered herself along with the silent soldier.

"This is—this must be what Revan and Malak were searching for." She walked to my side as she gazed into the brilliant lights. "Some of the planets are marked. Here's...Tatooine, Kashyyyk, Manaan, Korriban. Revan must have visited each of these planets to find clues of the Star Forge. I know that Revan has been to Korriban at least once."

"What sort of clues?" Carth asked.

I wondered that myself before I noticed scrawling words on the bottom and a place to insert a datapad. I took out mine and inserted it into the slot. A number flashed on the screen.

"That would be five..." I smiled back at Bastila. "They're coordinates, of course! Each of these planets probably have star maps like this one that lead to the Star Forge."

"That's a rather big supposition..." Carth said. "How are you so sure? "

"What else could it be, Carth?"

"Why would you think there could be more star maps on these planets? What if it's something else like other ruins..."

"I just _know,_ alright?"

Bastila interrupted our argument with a huff. "We must tell the Council in any case. This is a bigger lead that anything we've found so far."

I nodded before we all turned to leave the star map behind. The darkness of the ruins returned once more. Was it really that simple? Not that finding star maps randomly on planets _would_ be simple, but had the key to the Sith's destruction really been so close this entire time? 

* * *

The journey back to the Enclave had been quiet as we all pondered the meaning of these star maps. The sun had traveled halfway in the sky and the courtyard was absent of Jedi. Carth waved back at us before stomping away.

"You want to keep your secrets I suppose."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Why did he think they were even hiding anything? What _could_ they hide? Bastila watched as Carth stomped away with crossed arms. She didn’t comment and instead marched towards the Council chambers with me tailing behind her.

The Masters were completely attentive as we told them about everything we found. I passed over my datapad with the brand new coordinate flashing.

Master Vandar passed the datapad back with a sigh. "What you found within the ruins is interesting, Padawan." The wrinkled imp glanced towards the Archivist. "Master Dorak has been researching everything there is to know about the Star Forge within the Archives."

Dorak stared off into space. "I found next to nothing about a Star Forge, but I was able to get some info on the ruins. It was created by an ancient civilization dating back before recorded history. Whatever Revan and Malak found is beyond what we can even begin to imagine."

"What are you going to do then?" I asked. "Send someone out to find all these star maps?"

The Masters looked between each other before Master Zhar faced me. "I'd hate to send you out so unprepared—"

"We discussed this before," Master Vandar interrupted.

I raised an eyebrow. "Discussed _what_ before?"

Vandar sighed, his sad eyes meeting mine. "We wish to send you out in search of the Star Forge, Padawan," he said. "Because of your bond with Bastila and the Force guiding you with these visions...we feel as if this is the best course of action."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Wait, _me_ ? Me and _Bastila_?" I looked at the Battle Meditator. "Are you serious? Why wouldn’t you just send her out there?"

Master Zhar sighed. “Because of your bond, Padawan. You both need to be together for this to work.”

Great. So, I was going to risk my neck again on this Sith War. I’d almost forgotten that had been their intention this entire time. Spending a month meditating with the Jedi really must have clouded my sense of self-preservation. Old Wes was better at that.

“Ah," I muttered, "so you’re completely fine with just sending me out there to be slaughtered by the Sith.”

Master Vrook waved his hand at me. "Ever brash, ever disrespectful. Is _this_ what we've pinned our hopes on?"

"Peace, Vrook. We've already discussed this. We have no other choice." Master Vandar faced me again. "You will not do this alone. Juhani has agreed to come along with you."

"Perhaps she will serve as a reminder of what happens when one falls to the dark side," Vrook added.

I groaned and looked down at my feet. "Great, the feline. Anyone else?"

Zhar spoke next. "Carth Onasi has expressed his desire to remain with you and Bastila. Anyone that came with you from Taris may help as well. However, I cannot join you. This is a secret mission, Padawan. The Sith cannot discover you and my presence would make that task difficult."

I held my face as a splitting headache began to form there.

"Why should I even do this?"

Vrook laughed once. "I thought we already told you. Malak will be searching for Padawans like yourself and if he isn't stopped then even this enclave will not remain a refuge."

He was right. Why was he always right? I peered up. Bastila eyed me, her expression almost begging, hoping that I would agree to this...this _suicide_ mission. I pursed my lips before letting out a heavy sigh, shaking my head. She was going to be the death of me someday.

" _Fine_...alright. When do we leave?"

Vrook sat back. "The sooner _you_ leave the better.”

Bastila addressed my question in Vrook’s stead. “We will prepare for departure on the Ebon Hawk tomorrow.” She faced the Masters again and bowed. “We won’t fail you, Masters. I promise.”

I nodded yet refrained from bowing. Because I was not looking forward to this “secret mission” that will more than likely end in our deaths.

Master Vandar sighed at Bastila’s promise.

"We will send you off then." He bowed his head. "And may the Force be with you."

* * *

There was a tingle within the back of my head forcing me to awaken from my peaceful slumber.

_Wes!_

I threw the blanket off and wondered what in all hells Bastila wanted at five in the morning. Was she a droid? Did she not sleep?

The sun was just about to peak above the horizon. I pulled on my robe then stomped out of the Enclave while following her call like it was a beacon. For some reason she was out in the grand Dantooine wilderness. Grumbling to myself about pesky Jedi, I trekked across the hilly grasslands along the lake’s shore. The journey went on for ten minutes before I ran into a large willow tree. A figure sat behind those vine-leaves as if trying to hide from the world.

But I knew who she was. 

I batted the leaves away and stomped over to Bastila—ready to give her a piece of my mind. However, before I went on my tirade, I paused. Her eyes were closed, legs crossed, lips slightly parted. She never looked so relaxed—her face was always either in a forever scowl or her forehead creased. It was a...nice change of pace. 

It took her a minute to notice I was there. The scowl returned immediately—gray eyes fierce.

I crossed my arms. "You called?"

"Yes. Yes, I did." She sat back stretching her arms of meditation sores. "I wanted to speak to you about our mission. About what lies ahead for us. It seems fate, or the Force, is driving us into a confrontation with the dark lord."

"So, the usual discussion topics then." I sat a foot from the Jedi then watched the lake. "Are we really going to confront the dark lord? All we’re trying to do is find this Star Forge. The Republic army could take care of the rest."

Bastila didn’t answer for a moment. "You, as well as I, should be prepared to face Darth Malak anyway.” She watched as the wind blew the willow leaves. “If not, then the confrontation will be difficult for you...as it was for me when I first faced Revan—"

"And killed the bastard." I pointed out with a smile. "That adds to our advantages, right? You already killed the big bad dark lord of the Sith. So is there any real reason to be worried? Malak is a kinrath spider in comparison."

The Jedi paled, her lips moving in terror.

"I...did not kill Revan."

My smile stuck onto my face and then it fell into a confused frown. "That's not what I heard. All the Republic soldiers on the Spire mentioned how you defeated the dark lord. It's what you're famous for."

Bastila shook her head with that frozen look on her face still. "Our mission was to capture Revan if possible. It was Malak who turned on his master by firing upon his ship. It was his desire to kill me and Revan both. We were fortunate enough to escape alive."

Really? Then why did everyone—the Jedi Masters included—spin the story as Bastila striking Revan down in one-on-one combat? Not some Sith betrayal. To increase morale?

I shook my head. "Well, I'm not surprised. They're Sith. It’s their m.o." Bastila's pigtails drifted within the winds. "So, you didn't actually kill Revan—Malak did the dirty work for you."

Bastila's figure tightened along with her fists. "As I said, it was our mission to capture Revan alive." She paused to take a breath. "The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners. No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes."

I raised my eyebrows. "Even Malak?"

"Even Malak."

I couldn't believe what she was saying. I shook my head, a doubting smile playing upon my lips. "I'm sorry, but I faintly remember that he killed billions of people. On both Taris and Telos. Malak isn’t like Juhani who made some _mistake_. He's a monster that deserves—"

"—another chance." She finally turned and met my eyes. "Yes, he's a monster. Yes, he probably deserves punishment for his crimes. But remember that both Revan and Malak used to be great Jedi. Heroes in every sense of the word. Heroes...that fell to the dark side."

Something stirred in the back of my mind, a sadness growing from its bud, Bastila its source. 

"Are you alright?" I asked, placing a hand upon her closed fist. She flinched away from my touch then turned.

"I-I'm sorry," she said. "It's just... remembering my confrontation with Revan is...painful. I just...need a moment. Please."

I glanced away from her, the tree's canopy waving in the winds. Why did Revan cause such distress within Bastila? He probably was a true terror to behold—I would've run away screaming as soon as I saw that red mask of his. Yet, Bastila was able to face him and get out alive. Even if she hadn’t made the killing blow.

And that made her a better Jedi—a better _person_ —than I could ever be.

I leaned back against the tree and looked up at the branches. "However it happened...Revan's dead," I said with a grin. "He isn't going to hurt anyone from the grave now, is he?"

Only, for some reason, my reassurances only caused her to delve deeper into a depression.

We remained silent, gazing out across the Dantooine prairie, a whole planet alive and open. We weren't set to leave until 1000 so I took the chance to relax in fresh air before being shoved into a freighter. Meanwhile, I tried thinking of something to cheer her up—a joke or something self-deprecating. But I somehow fell fatally short. Which wasn’t like me. No matter what, I always found a way to snark about the sky or...rancors? But my tongue was tied like Twi'lek lekku.

Pathetic really. 

It took me half an hour to finally break the silence.

"So..." I began. "Why’d you decide to have a conversation out here? Unless this is revenge for making you trek across Dantooine after me all the time."

The Jedi raised her sad eyes to meet my own. "I couldn't sleep last night. This tree...I always hid here as a child when my emotions got the better of me. It reminded me of home...and father."

"Your father? What happened to him?" I asked. "Is he dead?"

"No, I was taken by the Jedi when I was young as most Padawans are.” She pursed her red lips. “Family connections are fraught with powerful emotions. Anger and hate are the worst but even love can lead to folly."

I sat back. "Wait, love? You don't— _I mean_ —you don't actually believe any of that bantha fodder though, right?"

" _What_ bantha fodder?"

"You know, about attachments. What about the families? They don't just allow the Jedi to take their kids without fighting back, right?"

She sighed—probably over my apparent ignorance. "You were an exception to our Order being discovered as late as you were. But yes, it's best that children are taken away before they start forming attachments."

"But it wouldn't be that bad though," I said, "if a Jedi loved. What harm is there?"

"You risk falling to the dark side."

I snorted. " _Kriff_ , if the dark side includes love of all things, then it's no wonder why so many have fallen!"

Her face grew heavy in shadow. "Don't say such things! The dark side is everything that we strive to avoid." She sighed, rubbing her face. "I was actually considered too old. I lived on Talravin before I was taken. My father...he doted on me. Spoiled me even. My mother on the other hand..." She gritted her teeth. “...was different.”

"Different?"

"She would whittle away all my father's money he earned from hunting expeditions on cantinas and parties. She didn’t even say goodbye as I was being taken away. In fact, I think she was glad I left."

There was a glimmer of anger within the Force. I watched the leaves again.

"So, you were taken to Dantooine then? What was that like?" I asked.

"All of my peers were raised within the Enclave since they were very young. They all had friends amongst each other and I was an outsider. Estranged. So I ran here. It reminds me of what I left behind...and prepares me for what lies ahead."

I looked out across the rolling hills and cliffs, brith flew out of distant forests, flowers blew in the wind. A smile lifted my face. "I wouldn't exactly call this a bad planet. Compared to Taris, this place is a paradise," I said. "My home planet...it was a lot like Dantooine. Clean air, quiet countryside, peace. I've traveled all over the galaxy as a smuggler for years, and for some reason I never missed it. Not once."

Bastila stared meaningfully in my direction with softened eyes.

I smiled back at her sadly. "Maybe that was a mistake on my part. I guess I...forgot places like this even existed." Without waiting to see her reaction, I shot to my feet, stretching. "Well, I can't smuggle spices around the galaxy anymore, right? I'm a changed man—no thanks to you."

I winked, but instead of red blanketing her features as I expected, all my joking returned was a stony face lacking any sort of humor. The connection between us grew unstable, her body filling with that sadness I didn't understand.

Before I asked if something was wrong again, she stood up with a smile.

"I suppose you are."


	18. Ebon Hawk: The Star Path

We were to leave in an hour.

Carth had gone to prep the engines and make sure everything was good to go. Bastila was off somewhere—probably to talk to the Council without me again. Meanwhile, I was left behind to watch our new ship. The Ebon Hawk. 

Besides my spare robes and few personal items, the Jedi Council supplied Bastila and I 1,000 credits each to get us around the systems. The only real contribution for our journey other than the many "may the Force be with you”s.

I leaned next to the entrance to the ship with my bag in hand and many questions in my mind. Mostly questions as to why the Council thought this was a good idea. Of course, as was per usual when thinking about the Council, another one of those headaches appeared. Nope, nothing. There was no good reason. Not when Malak was going to be after our hide—particularly Bastila’s.

Before I fell asleep standing upright with the tempo of the droids working hard on our ship, a loud screech came from the mech shop.

"Get away from me you _bitch_!"

A loud slap followed the racket. Mission ran towards the Ebon Hawk and Zaalbar trailed behind her like a bodyguard. Another Twi'lek, pale in color and scantily clad, rushed out of the mech shop after her. I raised a brow at the scene and was going to stay out of that. But I was bored. Butting into some petty drama was better than slothing around like a Hutt all morning.

I stepped in front of the teenager before she entered the ship.

"Erm, what happened?"

" _Lena's_ what happened!” She pointed back at the pale Twi’lek. “After taking Griff away from me, you _dare_ talk bantha poodoo about him behind his back! I'd leave on the next shuttle before I twist your head tails into a knot you core slime!"

The pale Twi'lek stopped a few meters away while rubbing a red cheek. "Look, Mission, I wanted you to come with us, but Griff told me you didn't want to go. I told him that we shouldn't even bother going, but he said we'd come back for you after he made it rich in Czerka's mines on Tatooine. I ditched him two years ago after that _never_ happened." She shook her head. "I'm sorry Mission, I shouldn't even be here—I heard about a blue Twi’lek and thought...well..."

Lena sighed then turned on her heel towards the civilian shuttles.

Mission held up a fist. "Yeah, run away, home wrecker!"

Once she left, the young Twi'lek sighed, lekku dangling. "It can't be true...can it? Griff would have never abandoned me."

I frowned—not knowing what to say for once. Any nurturing I had exploded with Deralia. Eventually, I did find some words.

"So...that was...?"

Mission glanced up at me, frowning. "That was _Lena_ the cantina dancer that Griff met on Taris. It's because of that skank that I don't have my brother anymore. She just batted her pretty little eyes at him and he was sunk butt good."

I sighed, rubbing my face, still not sure if I wanted to deal with a family squabble right now.

"Well...it doesn’t sound like Lena thinks that."

She twisted around, glaring at me, pointing at my chest. "If Griff was here he would be defending himself! If you knew anything about him you wouldn't be doubting..." Her face pouted before she sank. "Actually, what she said...might be true. Griff always liked getting into trouble. Maybe he thought I would be safer if I was left behind?" She glanced again. "Hey, Wes? Do you think we could stop by Tatooine to make sure he's still there? I'm worried about him."

A smile grew on my face and I “hummed” as if thinking hard about it. Eventually, I nodded.

"What a coincidence—that's one of our destinations!"

A large smile grew on the teenager’s face before dropping. “Oh! But...we don't have to go there just for me!"

I chuckled. “Well, it'll be on the way to one of the Star Maps if it makes you feel better—"

The Twi'lek tackled me with a hug, my chest crushed, lungs suffocating...

"Thank you, Wessy! You really are a pal, you know that, right?"

All of the air finally escaped my lungs. I tapped her shoulder.

"Can't...breathe..."

Her innocent eyes looked up into my paled face before releasing.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!"

I held my sides breathing in heavily.

"Who _are_ you...a Wookiee?" 

She looked up at Zaalbar. "I guess Big Z did teach me a few things over the years."

I eventually recovered. "Since you’ll be coming with us you might want to get packed...or at least grab anything you've stolen."

" _Stolen_? Why... I have no idea what you're talking about..." She smiled slyly, batting her eyelashes at me. I crossed my arms then returned the smirk.

"Just tell Carth they were gifts, alright? Otherwise he'll be hounding my ass..."

She held up a thumb. "Gotcha!"

Mission ran towards the Enclave with a hop and a skip. If only I had her excitement and energy about this journey of ours…

On her way out, she passed a jumpy Cathar who flinched at the Twi'lek's boundless energy. Juhani looked up from her stare down with the floor then smiled once she saw me by the ship. A brand new lightsaber hung from her belt along with fresh robes. It had only been a few days, but she had already recovered from her wilderness jaunts with the dark side.

She stopped before me then bowed as far as she could go without toppling over.

"The Council has requested that I come with you on this journey. I wanted to thank you and...apologize again for the way I acted."

"Damn, right, apologize!" She stood up straight from her bow and gave me a puzzled expression. I waved a hand. "There's no need to be so formal. I'm not a Master you know."

Juhani’s face tightened. "It’s not that I’m being formal. I must try to not succumb to my temptations again. Somehow, I still see it, still _feel_ my anger. What if I fall again? What if I—?"

"I'm not worried about you doing anything—"

"But you should! If you hadn't saved me from both that river and the dark side then I wouldn't even be here right now. The Council wouldn't have forgiven me and I...never would've discovered that Quatra was really alive."

"Why worry about it? You're here now and that's all that matters."

She paused then a smile cracked her stoic face. "Yes, there is no emotion, there is peace. Of course. You have great wisdom.” She bowed again. “You are a better Jedi than I will ever be." 

That line sent me reeling over in hysterics. Everyone at the spaceport glanced over at us as I tried and failed to quiet my laughter. But it was just...too ridiculous. 

The Cathar's yellow eyes glared at me.

“What is so funny?”

I spoke through chuckles. "Better Jedi _—ho—_ you should hear what the Masters have to say about me. They would _definitely_ disagree with you."

Juhani, however, wasn't amused. "You think too poorly of yourself, Gale. No normal Jedi would risk their life for a...follower of the dark side like I was. I see great compassion within you."

Great compassion? As if. I was probably on the Council's list of Jedi most likely to fall to the dark side including action plan steps on how to turn me back to the light. If they _had_ a list like that...I should start worrying.

I looked off past the Ebon Hawk and decided not to press the point.

"You just need time to get back into the swing of things," I said. “You’ll stop stressing about it in no time.”

"That's true," Juhani said. "I need to distance myself from my anger. Maybe that's why the Council sent me with you. They think that, perhaps, when I'm in your company I might be able to free myself from it."

Now that really sounded out of character from the Jedi Council—at the very least Vrook. In fact, I thought Juhani was just here as an example for me. But I wasn't going to tell the Cathar that little fact. Didn't want to get my face clawed in after all.

"I'm not that great of an influence…” I muttered. “And I can't watch over you all the time."

Juhani narrowed her eyes. "Then I will have to prove my worth to you, won't I?"

She left after that, carrying a bag that I assumed were her modest belongings, climbing up the Ebon Hawk's incline. Hopefully I hadn't pissed her off. I met a few Cathars before and all of them had the attitudes of banthas when pissed off. Or at least pissed off drunk...

I rubbed my face as it twisted in horror. This journey wasn't looking up to be the best, really. Included in the roster was a teenage Twi'lek, a quiet Wookiee, an annoying Jedi Princess, Orangy, a now barely functioning droid thanks to that same teenage Twi'lek, and an emotionally unstable Cathar that I reminded myself to keep at least one room away from at all times if possible.

Ha, well all we needed now was a Mando to enhance this completely dysfunctional group destined to defeat the Sith Empire! Honestly, Malak didn’t have to lift a finger here. I wouldn’t be surprised if we killed each other off first...

And then the Force decided to have a laugh.

Canderous stomped towards the ramp to the Ebon Hawk.

"Whoa, whoa, _wait_.” I followed him until he was halfway up the incline. “You're coming with us?"

The Mandalorian smiled down at me with yellow teeth, cocking his scarred eyebrow.

"You have a problem with that, pipsqueak?"

"Well, no, it's just...you left on pretty bad terms the other day. I thought you already ran off on the next shuttle to hell or worse."

"Are you kidding? And where would I go?"

"I don't know. Find another crime lord, maybe? There are tons on Sleheyron or—"

"And find another Davik? No way." The Mando smirked up at the sky. "I have a feeling you're going to get mixed up in something interesting, and I want to be a part of the fun." He then looked at the Ebon Hawk. "Guess this is it."

I couldn't tell him that wasn't true when it definitely was. Going after the Star Forge was going to be interesting. And dangerous. A Mando's cup of caffa.

I waved at the ship.

"Well, fine then. Make yourself at home. Just not anywhere near our pilot. I don't want us to crash."

He gave a dark laugh then stomped the rest of the way up with dirty boots dragging into the metal.

Eventually, Mission returned with bags filled with her loot of odds and ends, machine parts, _food_. I shook my head as they rushed up the ramp as if they were burglars running from a heist.

Finally, and _hopefully_ , the last passenger entered the spaceport. Bastila strode towards me with her head held high—appearing like she did when I first saw her in the Republic Navy’s spaceport. She was trailed by the four Jedi Masters who walked with just as much pomp if not more so. They stopped before the ramp and gave me those calm, expectant looks.

Master Vander nodded. “Your journey will be difficult, Padawan. The path to the Star Forge will be fraught with danger.”

I sighed and looked past them to the port droids. “You think I don’t know that?”

My Master—Zhar—took a step forward and met my gaze. He looked as if he was sending me to the grave, honestly. Probably the only Master with common sense.

“Remember what I taught you, Wes Gale,” Zhar started. “Remember and I know that you and Bastila will succeed.”

I nodded then turned to walk up the ramp. Bastila followed close behind. Only, before I could get halfway up, Master Vrook called out.

“Before you go, a word of warning, Padawan."

I turned. Vrook’s expression was grim, dark, guilty—almost as if he was sending a rancor to terrorize the countryside rather than an inexperienced Padawan. 

His words were terse. "The lure of the dark side is difficult to resist. I fear this quest for the Star Forge will lead you down an all too familiar path. Do not stray, Padawan, from our teachings, or that path will always be what you become.”

I met Bastila’s gaze—hoping she hadn’t felt my tinge of fear after Vrook’s words—before waving.

“Right—got it. Warned. Can we go?”

Master Vrook looked as if he was going to say something else, yet Master Vandar interrupted. 

“Go. And may the Force be with you.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for Carth to navigate the Ebon Hawk into space. The rest of the crew dispersed after we entered space without any issues. However, those who were leading this mission, Bastila, Carth, and I guess me as well, hung around the bridge. Because we needed a destination.

I leaned against the metal wall. Bastila swiveled around in the co-pilot's seat and Carth sat back but kept an eye out into the vastness of space.

"We have four planets to choose from," Bastila began. "Any suggestions?

"I have one," I said.

Carth's face soured. "Of course you do."

I narrowed my eyes. "Tatooine. We take hyperspace routes to Coruscant then take the Corellian Run straight there. Cut our travel time to less than a week. Done it before because, well, because of my past occupation."

"Is that really a good idea?" Bastila asked. "The last time we chanced a hyperspace route we were ambushed on Taris."

"That was when we had an entire fleet with us," Carth argued. "Although there are better options. Manaan is much closer and is protected by the Republic. Tatooine is too far and is protected by Hutts and Czerka."

"Tatooine may be remote," I said, "but it's also remote for Malak. Manaan is within his line of sight what with it being the kolto center of the galaxy. He's still trying to conquer and pillage, remember?"

"That's true...I guess," Carth said.

I raised a brow. "Of course it's true. It's true because I'm always right. It's a gift."

" _Yes_ ," she said, crossing her arms. "And maybe if someone was actually _humble_ about his insights for once, that would always be the case."

I crossed my own arms. "Who are we talking about here?"

Both Bastila and Carth muttered to themselves as they went about plotting the route to Tatooine.

While they were plotting, I added, "Maybe we could stop at Coruscant for a drink? Find a few pazaak players, check out the Lower City—"

Bastila swerved around in her seat. "A _drink_? What do you think this is, some party? We don't have time to mess around the surface of Coruscant. In fact, the longer we stay there, the easier Malak will be able to track us to Tatooine."

I waved my hand. "I was kidding, Bas. A joke. Don't tell me you actually thought I was serious?"

I don't think she liked her new nickname for she turned around in her seat again and ignored my jab instead of biting back as usual. Carth was too busy to entertain me, so I left the bridge towards the dorms again.

We took off fifteen minutes later into hyperspace. The trip to Tatooine would take a few days at least. With the Ebon Hawk's infamous hyperdrive, however, I wasn't even sure about that estimate.

Meanwhile, I took the time to make myself at home. I chose one of the many beds in what we unofficially designated as the male dorm room. I threw my bag onto the closest one to the fresher before heading back to the bridge. I took out the few items I brought with me—my lightsaber, extra robes, datapad, my coin, and of course my red jacket. I smiled at the old thing, wondering why I decided to keep it. I wasn't supposed to keep sentimental stuff like that anymore and the Jedi robes were much easier to move around in anyway. Though, it might come in handy if I needed to go incognito.

I threw the thing on the shelf above then slid my bag underneath my bed. I collapsed onto the mattress with a sigh.

And so, our epic journey for the Star Forge began.

* * *

"You cheater!"

Mission threw her card down onto the table, crunching her jaw as she revealed her last play. I smiled as I shuffled my deck again.

"Sorry, Mission, but I don't cheat."

"Using the Force _is_ cheating, you nerf herder!"

We were in the main concourse of the Ebon Hawk, pissing away time as we jetted through the blues of hyperspace. Thankfully I remembered to buy myself a pazaak deck before we left or else the entire trip would've been a disaster. Just thinking about the boredom was torturous. I'd rather spend a day with Vrook Lamar then stare at metal walls. It was worse than the Republic prisons, worse than the Endar Spire...

Fortunately, Mission had her own deck, so we began playing a few rounds—bet free, of course. I wasn't going to waste the only credits I had left in my name to some teenage thief. However, despite only playing for fun, she took every loss personally. She grumbled to herself as she scooped her cards up again.

"Let me use your deck," she said, raising a hand.

"How, exactly, will that help you?" I asked. "You have a better deck than me. It'll only make your situation worse."

"Just let me use your deck, alright!"

I shook my head then handed her my deck, taking hers. Zaalbar muttered something beneath his breath about making sure I didn't finger the playing cards. I glared at him then started another game.

Which I won. Shocker.

Mission growled while slamming her fists onto the table. At that moment, Bastila stepped out of the fresher then glared at us and our "childish games" as she called it. Mission perked up when the Jedi passed our table.

"Bastila, can I ask you a favor?"

She stopped then raised a thin eyebrow at Mission.

"If this isn't important—"

"Can you tell me if Wes is using the Force or not during our game?"

_Kriff._

I sat back and shuffled the deck again—trying to bluff a calm exterior. "Oh, come on. Bastila couldn't tell if I was using the Force even if I was cheating. And I'm not." I finished shuffling, pointing the deck at the Jedi. "That and she doesn't _care_ about our ‘stupid game’— "

"Sure."

My mouth glued shut. _Wait, what?_

Mission clapped her hands together as Bastila pulled up a seat beside me then crossed her arms. I pursed my lips then began another deal before I was stopped by the Jedi's raised hand.

"However, I do not know the rules."

I threw up a hand. "One of the most popular games in the galaxy and you don't know how to play? Are you some kind of sheltered Jedi or something?"

She glared at me while Mission snorted a small laugh.

"Perhaps, unlike _someone_ , I prioritized Jedi training over pathetic gambling," she said, pointing at me. "If the Council knew you were wasting time with this stupid game rather than preparing for our journey—"

"Stupid game?" I shook my head. "Really? Pazaak...a stupid game? Now that is an incorrect surface-level judgement. It’s strategic yet unpredictable, simple yet detailed. Sometimes, you need to practically if not literally read the mind of your opponent in order to play your next card. It's anything but _stupid_ —"

Before Bastila burst out at me again, the teenager was quick to interject.

"Look, ignore that idiot. I'll tell you how to _actually_ play, alright?"

I narrowed my eyes at the teen.

For the next ten minutes, Mission explained the rules to Bastila who was able to easily pick up the concepts. Meanwhile, I shuffled my deck and stared at a crack in the Ebon Hawk's hull—bored to tears. After Mission went over the role of the dealer's deck, Bastila faced me with that kinrath-pup-look.

"So, you were reading the cards in the deck? You can't just use the Force for personal gain like that!"

I stopped shuffling my deck then chuckled darkly. "Why Bastila, _sweet_ Bastila. Of course I wouldn't use the Force like that. How could you even think that I, an innocent Padawan—"

"Oh _please_ , you're far from innocent."

"—an _innocent_ Padawan, would do such a thing? I swear on my life that I'm not cheating. If you sense me using the Force or, hell, if she wins then Mission's debt to me will be cleared. If not..." I held up my hand. "Pay up."

The blue Twi'lek creased her eyebrows.

"Debt? What do yah mean?"

Wait. She forgot? Damn...I knew some "forgetful" people in my line of work, but did this teenager actually think I'd fall for that?

I glowered. "You know, the credits you promised me when I almost died at the hands of a kriffin' rancor on Taris? That ring any bells?"

Her blue eyes widened at the memory then nodded her head. "Oh, that? I thought you weren't being serious, Wes." She shrugged. "But if it's that important to you..."

"Wait," Bastila was giving me that look again, "you made a teenager promise you credits? How much?"

I sighed while leaning back. "1,000, but it's not like she's lacking them now."

After she sold her stolen goods, she'd be richer than everyone on this ship ten times over. Not that I was going to mention that little detail...

Bastila's face grew red as if witnessing a child break all the dinnerware "It doesn't matter if she has credits to pay. What matters is your perverse greed. Are credits all that you care about?"

I shrugged. "Credits make the galaxy shine, princess." She grew even brighter before her face grew resolved. It was that face—the one that told me she was going to do something drastic. I broke out in a sweat. "Alright, let's get this game on..."

"Yes," Bastila muttered. "Let's."

 _Sithspit_. She looked evil—like a Sith or a Mandalorian ready to gut me right then and there. Hell, she looked like Vrook Lamar and he was worse than the two combined. And the Force bond didn't betray that expression of hers—she was out to get me.

Mission glanced between the two of us, worried—probably—for my safety.

"Okay...Bastila can be the dealer then."

Zaalbar gave the dealer's deck to the Jedi who eyed me evilly as she shuffled. She handed both of us a card—Mission a five, me a seven. The next turn Mission's hand added to a fifteen while mine became an eight. I got a ten the next turn while Mission got a four and, smiling, I put down a one card—calling hold on my nineteen.

Pssh, I was going to win even without using the Force. Just watch...

Bastila coughed. "Mission, I _suggest_ for you to get a card."

I tensed. "What are—you can't tell her anything! You're the dealer!"

"I didn't _tell_ her anything." She smiled at me—with that evil, evil smile. "It was a _suggestion_."

Mission smirked, brushing one of her hand cards against her right lekku.

"Oh...well then. I guess I'll just take you up on that suggestion, Bastila!" She asked for another card and—to my horror—she earned herself a twenty. If I could flip the nailed down table, I would have, but instead I stood and pointed at the Jedi.

"This is hypocrisy," I said. "Complete, utter, _hypocrisy_!"

"How?" Mission asked. "Isn't Bastila allowed to contribute to the game?"

I growled, muttering to myself, slinking down into my chair. Bastila—although stoic—eyed me like a Sith.

This meant war. _War_.

So, for my next turn I predicted a natural twenty in my future. Bastila, however, sensed me using the Force and called me out on it. I raised a hand.

"Got any proof?" I asked.

Bastila glowered before suggesting to Mission that her next card wasn't a good one.

Soon, the game turned into a real battle with cards slamming like bombs and voices rising like lightsaber hums, each turn ending in a tie. Eventually, Bastila got detailed with her "suggestions" and bluntly "guessed" that the next card was a ten or five. That game was the longest pazaak deal I'd ever played once we hit the thirty minute mark. The cards in the dealers deck had to be shuffled for the fifth time. Half were bent by the force we used on them.

And yet, somehow, despite the first setback, I won.

I laughed maniacally, waving my winning card in Mission's face. Bastila shook her head.

"What a child..."

I ignored her though. Because I won. And she was a sore loser. I held my hand out to Mission who frowned, taking out a thousand credit chip then threw it onto the table.

"It was a stupid game anyway," she pouted.

Finally, the Force was on my side.

Before I picked up my winnings, Bastila stood and snatched the chip.

"And this..." she said, "is for buying T3."

I jumped out of my seat, cards flying off the table.

"You can't do that!" I shouted. "You volunteered to pay for the droid."

"Did I? Hmm, I must have forgotten to tell you that you owed me half. Oh well."

My mouth remained hanging open, unable to come up with something. My face warmed. Damn, I'm usually so much quicker on my feet than this. Think of something, Wes, think!

She stopped then held out the chip to Mission, dropping it within her blue palm.

"Here Mission. I'm giving this to you—for free. I don't need credits. Unlike the greedy Hutt slug over there." And she left, returning to her—obviously false—Jedi serenity. I cursed, kicking back in my chair, ignoring Mission's smug look.

That woman was insane. Completely. Utterly. Insane.

* * *

I brooded for an hour, shaking my head at Mission's suggestion for another game. Instead, I tapped my foot rapidly on the table's legs—trying to mutter to myself the Jedi code.

_Ha, like that'll help._

Eventually, I returned to the dorms to meditate. How was she able to break the code so blatantly like that while acting like she had moral superiority over me? It pissed me off. I sighed, finishing my meditation—if it could have been called that. No, nothing should set me off like that anymore. I was a Jedi and anger led to the dark side. I couldn't just ignore warnings like that—not when the reality of the dark side was shown to me too many times. So, I recited the whole Jedi code again before standing—so enthused I was for the great feast of synthesized crap.

The Ebon Hawk had a small kitchenette along with a “dining room” which consisted of three round tables and scattered stools. There wasn't much room there—well, for me anyway since I wanted to stay as far away as possible from the Jedi Meditator. I worried that I would fling insults the next time we bumped heads.

So, I ate in the dorm room—alone.

I finished my dinner and entered the kitchen to dump my remains. Seeing as how the foyer was empty, I decided to stroll around the ship to try and get a feel of where everything was—scouting out the territory. After a few laps, it became evident that the place wasn't actually as twisting and maze-like as it appeared. The halls only made it easy to hide from those who didn’t know their way around. Man, if I was a smuggler still, this ship would've been perfect.

Before I headed to the dorms to sleep, something rustled within the cargo hold. I stopped then peeked my head within the large room. A few containers had been opened and some had toppled over. As I went to check out the containers, small footsteps thumped behind me. I turned, trying to sense who it was through the Force. 

“Mission?”

I abandoned the cargo hold and peered down the hall towards the garage. I was about to leave in that direction before I spotted an energy bar—part of the emergency supplies—on the floor half eaten. The bar was neatly opened too, so the culprits couldn't have been vermin. This was a sentient perp.

Before I followed the trail, a girl shrieked.

"Na abds, na abds!"

I rushed towards the screaming in the main hold of the ship.

Zaalbar stood holding a familiar looking girl in his massive paws. The silent Wookiee let the poor girl back onto the ground. She turned to run but the walking carpet grabbed her shoulders, light enough not to hurt her but tight enough so that she didn't escape. Tears streaked down her face as she mumbled pleas within her strange dialect—it sounded like Mando'a. I had a strange feeling as if I'd run into someone like her before.

The Wookiee growled. "Who is this, Wes?"

I walked up to them then bent down to the girl's level. That’s when I finally recognized her.

"You...you’re one of those children the Mandos took." I frowned. "Sorry about the Wookiee here. He has this annoying habit of grabbing unsuspecting victims."

"Hey," Zaalbar growled.

The girl stopped shaking with fear as she gazed at me, curious. I asked Zaalbar to let her go and he did, but this time she didn't run off. The poor thing, she looked like she went through a horde of rabid kath hounds.

"Why are you on the Ebon Hawk? Didn't Canderous drop you off?"

Her words were jumbled, however, Mando'a mixed with basic, barely understandable at all. Through the mix, however, I understood one word. Home.

I gazed up at Zaalbar. "She thinks this is her home..."

"You understand her?" he asked.

"Barely," I said. "She's speaking some dialect of Mando'a. It'll take awhile to get answers from her."

And I needed answers from her. _About Liam._ The Wookiee took that as his signal to leave, muttering about not wanting to bother with small children yet again.

I held up the bar. "You hungry?"

The child stared longingly at the bar before nodding her head, blabbering in her language again. Before she took the bar from my hands, I shoved it into my pocket. She growled in frustration. I shook my head. "No, it's just...this isn't really a meal.”

I stood and beckoned her to follow. She didn't at first, still afraid, so I turned and smiled down at her. She followed after that. The girl hesitantly waited at the threshold to the small closet space that was considered a kitchen as I opened the synthesizer over the sinks, looking for some food to make in the cabinets.

I held up some greens. "You like vegetables?" I asked.

"Yum?" she asked, perking up.

"Yeah... _yum_ , whatever."

I popped some cabbages and onions in the synthesizer and waited, staring into the glass machine as it began filling. The girl slowly stepped past the threshold as if poking a toe in brackish water to check the temperature.

I chuckled. "I'm not going to kick you out of an airlock, kid. Relax."

However, she didn't understand me as she stared up with large eyes. Just my luck that I run into _another_ language deficient child. When the food was done, I scooped the goopy substance into a bowl and handed it to her.

"There you go, eat up."

She eyed it as if I gave her Gamorrean crap.

I huffed, crossing my arms. "I know—I'm not a cook. It's either that or nothing."

"Mesh... _duraa_ ," she said in what sounded like a disgusted tone.

"It _will_ be gross if you say it is. Prison food is what's gross. And, what do you know? Thieving stowaways like you go to prison."

When she heard my dark tone of voice, she raised her hands to cover her face.

"Yooba na abds!"

She said that before. "Na abds?" I asked.

Peering between her fingers, she nodded her head. Saying the phrase again, she mock punched her face, shaking her head.

"Na...don't? And abds...is hurt? Don't hurt me?"

Sasha nodded her head.

I frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to eat. Those bastards probably starved you to death."

However, she didn't appear as if she understood.

After an awkward silence, I realized I hadn't given her a spoon. I threw open a drawer and shoved a spoon within her bowl. I crossed my arms, waiting for her to start eating. When she stood there with the bowl, I sighed. Grabbing her bowl from her hands, I led her to the table, pazaak cards still strewn on the top. _What a mess._ I placed the bowl down, motioning her to sit with it. She started eating minutes later.

I sat there for an hour as she slowly ate the synthesizer crap. Meanwhile, I began to learn her broken language. From what I could understand, her name was Sasha and she had been abused as a slave for years by the Mandos. After we rescued her, she stowed away on Canderous’ speeder and ended up following him to the Ebon Hawk. When I asked her about Liam, she shook her head, saying a scary man named Czerka took him to Tatooine for “a bounty.”

My heart grew cold. Czerka Corporation was known for their shady business practices—selling Wookiee slaves for example. But I’d never heard of them getting involved with bounties. And why did some unknown slave-boy like Liam have a bounty in the first place? Unless he wasn’t actually a slave and had been held by Brejik in order to exchange him for that bounty. While it was convenient that I could continue to try and rectify my mistake on Tatooine, I doubt searching for the boy would be easy while also searching for this Star Map.

I sighed. "Sasha, why did you follow us?"

She looked down into her bowl.

"Yooba...yooba manlorey abds. Yooba manlorey kyllor."

I strained with what she said. "I...hurt the Mandalorians? I—kyllor?"

She looked down below the table at my lightsaber. I looked back up in realization. "Kyllor...kill. I killed the Mandalorians."

Of course. She saw my “distraction.” That's why she smuggled into the Ebon Hawk—she thought I could protect her from the Mandalorians.

I stood and entered the kitchen to dump her bowl into the dispenser. I checked the time on my datapad—almost midnight. I glanced towards Sasha who's defiant eyes glinted.

"We're bringing you back home tomorrow." When she didn't move, I grabbed her arm. "Come on. Let's go." She stubbornly looked up at me in response. I pursed my lips. "Look, kid. It's midnight. Past your bedtime."

Before I started to force her along, she pulled back again.

"I am home," she said. "This starship is my home."

I rubbed my face, sighing. _Kriff_.

"The Ebon Hawk isn't your home. Dantooine is. Your real parents are probably looking for you."

She seemed to stop to think about my words before she huffed again.

"But...I want to stay. I like you. You're nice."

"Well, too bad. You can't."

"Why not?" she whined. "Why can't I stay?"

"Because you'll get hurt," I said, pointing at her. " _Abds_."

She processed my words then shook her head.

"You won't hurt me. You said so."

"Not me. The Sith. So, we're going back to Dantooine. You're real home. End of discussion."

She deflated after she understood my words, then looked down at her feet as if she was trying to use the Force to move them. I shoved her back in the direction of the dorms and she walked forward, head low. I pursed my lips, wondering, briefly, if I had been too harsh with the girl. But no. No doubts, Wes. A small child shouldn't be hanging around our suicidal mission. 

After I shoved Sasha into bed, I paced down the halls of the Ebon Hawk, walking towards the bridge where I assumed Bastila and Carth were. The lights of the controls were dim as I entered the bridge, the co-pilot chair empty. However, an orange-jacketed man still sat, bent over the armrest.

I sat next to him, reclining back in the chair. Carth didn't look up.

"Bas asleep?" I called over.

He nodded in his hand.

There was a beat of silence before I continued.

"You know we have a stowaway, right?"

He shook his head. I huffed at his unresponsiveness then sat back in the co-pilot's chair to better see him past the metal wall.

"What's wrong? Kath got your tongue?"

A long sigh. "Look, Wes, I'm too tired to deal with your antics right now."

I shrugged, sitting forward. "Alright, so you won't complain when I bring us out of hyperspace."

"Wait, _what_?" I pressed at the screen, placing the command to stop the jump. I pulled at the lever and the blue of hyperspace evaporated. Carth stood, darkly glaring down at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like, genius?"

"We can't go back. We just left."

I rolled my eyes. "One day to drop off our stowaway isn't going to kill us."

Carth sat back in the pilot seat, pressing at the front screen. I looked down and saw him placing coordinates in the system. For Coruscant.

_Oh, no he didn't._

I attacked the panel and stopped the activation of the hyperdrives. When I did, he stood again. "We can't afford to hop across the galaxy. The more times we jump, the more times Malak will have the opportunity to track our wakes. Do you want him to ambush us again?"

I waved out the window into space. "I don't see any Sith. Do you?" I went back to the panel, typing in coordinates. "We won't have time to return to Dantooine once we start looking for the Star Maps. It's now or never."

Carth grumbled something inaudibly, sitting down, crossing his arms. Fortunately, he didn't cancel my request for a jump, the lines of the stars bleeding as we made our way back to the Jedi Enclave.

We sat in silence, although I could tell that Carth was more than unhappy about this. I considered going back to my room, but the tension in the commander was too much to be left alone.

Another deep sigh came from the soldier.

"Have I already mentioned how completely insane you are?"

I smirked. "I don't think you _ever_ have, Carth."

"Why are you here?"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing over the control panel separating us.

"Huh? What do you mean? You mean here in this room—?"

"You know what I mean. Why are you here on this mission? You're a neophyte Padawan who's been saddled with tracking down these Star Maps. Why? That's not normal."

I crossed my arms. "Bastila knows more about this mission than I do. Why don't you ask her?"

"I would be more than happy too, but she's just as closed-mouthed as the rest of the Council. I was hoping you would enlighten me."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Well, I'm so glad you can trust me to tell you over the Jedi kriffing Council."

A long groan. "Look, I'm not trying to provoke you or imply that you're somehow responsible for the Jedi...but give me a hand here! There has got to be a reason."

"It's none of your business, frankly," I shot back.

"None of my business? I'm sorry, but I'm a part of this mission too. Even if the Jedi are in charge, I'm risking my life, same as you."

I sighed, sitting back. Perhaps I have been a bit unfair to Carth these days. I certainly wouldn't have been patient enough to stay out of the loop for so long.

Pursing my lips, I stared up at the ceiling.

"Bastila and I have...a bond. We have to do this mission together. That's all I'm going to say."

"A _bond_?"

Great, I had to explain it. Even I barely understood the damn thing.

"During Taris—kriff knows _how_ —Bastila and I were connected through a Force bond of some sort. Our destinies have been bound together and it’s giving us these visions of Revan and Malak. That's why I need to come, unfortunately."

He leveled a stare at me as if I was a mynock singing the soprano part of a Bithian quartet. Now that I think about it...all of it sounded completely crazy. The Revan and Malak part especially.

After a minute of him staring at me, I heard him sit deeper in his chair.

"Is this more of that destiny crap the Jedi keep spouting? Well, that can't be it."

"Then what could it be, Carth? _What_?"

Carth grew silent as if trying to think of something. Eventually...

"I...don't know. I will tell you this though. I won't be sitting around waiting to be betrayed again."

I shoved a finger in his direction. "Is everything one big conspiracy to you?"

Carth narrowed his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with being cautious.”

For once I couldn’t think of an argument against that. I stomped out while trying to calm myself with the code, heading towards my room without giving the soldier the chance to argue.

_There is no emotion, there is peace…_

* * *

We arrived back at Dantooine early in the morning. I told Bastila the situation and she didn't say a word as I pulled the child along down the ramp. I gave Sasha to the the Jedi at the spaceport who promised to deliver her back home or find her one if possible. Sasha sniffed and cried as she was led away from me. _Ugh_ , children.

We didn't wait any longer than that before we flew back into space. I chose a spot to sit on one of the chair-benches in the main hold and twirled my coin.

A presence. Bastila was standing there with crossed arms. I knew what she wanted to talk about.

"Do I have something on my face?" I asked with a smirk.

"Who was that child?"

I sighed. "She was one of those children taken from the Mandalorians.”

She lowered her head. “So, it's about that boy again."

I grabbed my coin midair with a flip. "That boy has a name, you know."

Bastila stormed to where I sat on the bench-chairs then took the seat I had been spinning my coin on before. 

"Remember that our quest for the Star Forge comes first. Your search for Liam cannot interfere with the mission."

I pointed at her chest. "I know, alright? You don't have to remind me."

"Really?” She leaned back in the seat. “Well, it seems to me as if I _have_ to remind you. This morning, I woke up surprised that we were jumping back to Dantooine. You took the initiative to go back without consulting me. Already _that_ was a risk to the mission."

"Why am I even here then if I'm such a _risk_?"

The Jedi's face fell, growing dark. "You know that isn't what I meant."

"Then what was it supposed to mean?"

"That you should learn to control your emotions? That you shouldn't act on your instincts alone? That you should think about the consequences for once?"

"So I'll ask you again: why am I here? The Council said we needed to be together for the visions to show up, but how do they know for sure that my presence is even necessary? We haven’t been that far apart before to test it out."

"Of _course_ your presence is—I mean—the events on Taris proved that the Force wanted us to be together on this mission. Isn't that enough for you?"

I drew closer to her with a smirk. "If the Force wanted us to 'be together' then why do you keep resisting my undeniable charms?"

She sank away from me. "Undeniable—! I said the Force wanted us to be together for the _mission_. I doubt the Council would approve if they knew we were discussing our mutual attraction instead of—"

"Ah, so it’s mutual?"

She glowed red. "Mutual attract—that is just an expression! Whatever our feelings—I mean, whatever _your_ feelings, you have to ignore them. Please don't complicate things."

I raised my hands then sat back. "Whoa, wait a second there. When did I ever say _I_ had feelings for _you_?"

She reddened. "But—you just. You just _said_ —!"

"Wait...you're not actually taking my teasing seriously, are you?"

" _Teasing?"_

"Yeah, teasing. You know—jesting, joking, pranking? It's a word."

She composed herself again. "And why, exactly, have you been wasting your time teasing me?"

"I don't know. It's fun."

The redness spread to her ears. "Fun _,_ _fun_? Driving me insane is your idea of a fun time?"

" _Nah, ah, ah_ —careful," I said, wagging a finger near her nose. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

The Jedi pushed my hand away with a disgusted tisk. 

"You...you are a very odd man, you know that?" She threw up her hands. "All I try to do is help, but you seemed determined to drive me mad."

I frowned. "When did I ever say I _wanted_ your help?" I crossed my arms. "You're the only one who seems to think I need any."

"Of course you need help. You've barely had any training, you rely on your lesser instincts far too often, and you're interrupting our mission for unimportant side quests."

"Unimportant? " My voice rose. "How is taking a little girl home _not_ important?" I pointed a finger into her face, my face warm. "I'm sorry protocol _droid_ , but I don't need your programmed definition of _help_." 

Seeing as how she wasn't going to respond, I stood then marched towards the engine room to...I don’t know. Doing anything was better than fighting with _her_.


	19. Tatooine: Anchorhead

_The shadow of a boot sank into the dune. Heat. Death. Power._

The ramp from a dark ship lowered. Two shadows marched out, bleak even underneath the piercing binary suns. 

Malak—his eyes were consumed with something dark... _pained_.

And Revan. The red-gray mask didn’t flinch as sands billowed into their faces.

"Do you sense it, Master?" Malak said. "The dark side."

Revan didn't respond, his mask ever stoic and cold. They were searching for something. 

_The Star Map._

Even within the vision, the dark side coursed down them in waves. These weren't the same fearful Jedi that searched for the Star Map on Dantooine. No, they were different. Consuming, powerful _, evil._

_Sands...blinded the senses._

They stopped before an enormous cave. Within the cave, a strange cold that never should have marked the desert seeped out like a taint. 

A group of aliens and humans chatted around a campfire. One held up a mine, shaking his head. He addressed a green Twi'lek. "Come on—the Jedi isn't that incapable, Komad. He’s—"

That's when they spotted the Sith.

The group jumped from the ground and picked up their weapons.

"Who are you?" shouted one of the aliens.

After a moment, the green Twi'lek lowered his rifle, face astonished. "Wait, I know that mask from the HoloNews! You're _Revan_ the hero of the Republic _,_ " the Twi'lek, Komad, said. "But...what are you doing here? The whole galaxy thinks you're dea—"

Revan raised a gloved hand, squeezing. The green Twi'lek dropped his weapon, the whites of his eyes popping as he reached for his neck, trying desperately to breath. The rest of the team froze with their shaky weapons, shouting for the dark Jedi to stop.

But he didn't.

A crack. The Twi'lek fell to the ground, dead. The group glanced between each other before dropping their weapons.

"We surrender!" one shouted—a human. "Just don't—!"

Without even lowering his hand, the dark lord of the Sith threw a bolt of lightning at the human, charring the already humid air. The man screamed, tearing at his face as it melted off, the smell of burnt flesh mixing with salted sweat. The screams stopped as soon as the man hit the ground, face blackened and forever frozen in terror.

The group grew silent.

Then all at once they became frantic, raising their hands, dropping to the ground, pleading for their lives.

That _monster_ acted as if he hadn’t heard them. He took a silver object in his hand from his belt—a lightsaber—and walked up to one.

The man whimpered. "Mercy—"

The red blade pierced into the man's neck. The body of the man fell with a thump in the sands. Before he moved to kill the others, someone called out from behind. A Jedi stood, green blade ignited, his face horrified. The man took a stance, head shaking slowly at the presence of the two dark Jedi.

"Why are you doing this? _"_ the Jedi asked, shaking. " _Why_?"

Malak stepped forward, face eager. "Let me kill the Jedi, Master. I will make him suffer."

Revan raised a hand in front of his apprentice. Darth Malak looked almost disappointed. _He's growing defiant._

The Jedi took a step back, lightsaber raised.

"I-I won't let you—"

Revan ignited a second lightsaber from his belt. The purple and red lights blurred together as he Force jumped up to the frightened Jedi. The Jedi raised his green lightsaber to block the attacks, but Revan was too quick. He flicked the two lightsabers like the giant maw of a rancor. The man grunted when sparks flew into his face. Revan snapped his jaws at the Jedi, blurring around the poor Jedi as he tried, desperately to stop the incoming attacks.

_A roar echoed from the cave._

The fight didn't even last a minute when Revan swiped at the Jedi's wrist. The man fell to his knees screaming. He held his steaming wrist—his hand thrown to the golden sands. Revan hovered over him like a shadow, lightsaber raised beside the Jedi's neck. The man breathed heavily in pain, head lowered in defeat.

The red lightsaber hummed. The Jedi looked up into the slit of Revan's mask. Instead of anger or fear within his eyes— _as I expected_ —there was only confusion. Sadness. _Pity_.

"It’s not too late, Revan." The Jedi smiled with pain. "You can go back—"

The lightsaber bit the Jedi's neck. His head bounced twice before rolling beside the severed hand.

A tinge of pain drifted from the mask, thick, heavy.

Revan sighed as he extinguished his lightsabers. 

“What a waste.”

_Another roar came from the cave._

Malak arrived at Revan’s side. A wide grin plastering his face. "I sense weakness within you, Master," he said. "I wonder...we haven't run into any Jedi until now. Are you feeling _regret_ after killing him?"

Revan kicked the head of the Jedi. “He could have been of use to us.”

“There is no _use_ in turning more pathetic Jedi—”

Revan grabbed Malak's neck with both hands and squeezed. The dark Jedi grew frightened as he was lifted half by the Force and half by Revan’s strength. The dark lord gripped tighter and Malak tried to suck in a breath. 

"Remember, Malak. If you defy me again, I will carve that smirk from your face. Permanently."

The dark lord released his apprentice. Anger. Hatred. It all flowed from Malak. Revan stared down the rest of the poor people who had frozen in terror after the death of the Jedi. The red mask faced Malak again then nodded. The dark apprentice chuckled then ignited his red lightsaber.

_He killed them. All of them._

They were within the cave now. Bodies and bones littered the edges. The humming from the Star Map echoed off the interior. Light bounced off the wet walls. Ancient statues surrounded the device.

_A pacified growl..._

* * *

I shook awake—hair plastered to my face from sweat. My chest heaved as I stared up at the bunk, blinking away that vision.

A vision of Malak and Revan.

Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I rubbed my clammy face. So _clear_. The Jedi's death, Malak's eyes, Revan's mask...

I wanted the visions to stop. All of them. Damn the mission. Damn Bastila. Damn the bond. Damn the Force.

When I looked up, Carth and Canderous weren't in their bunks, nor the Wookiee, so I entered the fresher. Staring into the small mirror, I groaned when I noticed dark bags and red veins marking the whites of my eyes. Flicking the faucet on, I splashed cold water onto my face.

As if _that_ could wash away what I witnessed.

I grabbed my robes from the top of the bunk and put them on. I checked the chrono— _1100_? Why did I sleep in so late? Shrugging, figuring that time didn't matter while in hyperspeed anyway, I sat in the middle of the room in order to find peace within the Force. Unsurprisingly, I found no peace. None.

We were hours away from Tatooine after four days of quiet travel. I didn’t speak to Bastila or Carth much these past few days. Instead, I spent my time in the main hold messing around with Mission during the day and drinking the scarce amount of alcohol found in the cargo hold with Canderous at night. The Mando did most of the talking—about war, his strange honor-bound culture, and basilisk droids—while I apathetically listened.

There was also Juhani who—for some Force forsaken reason—treated me like I was her Master. Every morning when I snatched up breakfast in the kitchens she asked for advice—how did I control my emotions? How did I appear so calm, so at _peace_? What words of wisdom did I have to pass on? Always, it seemed, I disappointed her with my answer.

“I’m not a Master.” 

I told her this each time, but she still persisted. She was practically attached to me by the hip—she didn’t speak to anyone else on the ship _besides_ me. It was starting to weird me out. I could tell, due to the small "lessons" in the Force that I gave her, that she was also growing frustrated. It was a no-win situation.

Concentrating in my meditation, I calmed my emotions, trying to combat the rising darkness within my chest. Only to be reminded of the nightmare. The sand, death...regret.

Were these visions really a force for good? Bastila made it seem so. The Council made it seem so. And why wouldn't they be? They were revealing the Sith's plans to us—these visions _had_ to be a force of light. And yet, every time I awoke from the dreams, they ripped something from me.

Bastila should have noticed. In fact, she should've noticed long before I did—she knew more about the dark side. But she always seemed unnaturally unfazed by this entire situation. 

My stomach growled.

 _Kriff_.

I fell to the ground, butt punching the floor. Right—too self-reflective to do any proper meditating. Before I opened my eyes, the doors swished open on the far side of the room. Bastila finally marched in—head held high. 

I looked to the ground. "Finally speaking to me?"

"We had a vision."

I frowned. "That we did."

Silence. Both of us avoided each other's gaze like magnets repelling. I went to speak, but I couldn't find the right words to say. Sometimes it was like this with her. This...frustrating, awkward distance.

Bastila finally broke the silence.

"The Star Map seems to be in a cave of some sort within the desert. At least we have something to go by."

Heat pooled in my chest after hearing those detached, clinical words. I pushed myself onto my feet and tried to mask my emotions. Probably failing at that completely.

"These visions..." She finally met my gaze. "Is there a way to stop them?"

"Stop them?" Her mouth flapped open then closed. "Why...why would you want to stop them?"

"You didn't... _feel it_ ?" I held myself then stared at the metal floor. "That dream...what Revan and Malak did to those people—that Jedi—it was terrible! What I felt was _terrible_. Why would the Force want us to see that?"

Bastila sighed. _Great._ What was she going to say? What excuses were she going to make up about our "destiny?" Instead of speaking, she walked over to a bed then sat down.

"We can't just make them go away."

"Why not? If they appeared out of nowhere then we can make them stop all the same."

She pulled a hand through her hair. "You just—you don't understand. These visions are the only things guiding us to the Star Maps. We would be lost without them."

"So? We know what planets they're on. And the vision barely gave us anything to go off of."

"It gave us plenty. The Star Map is within a cave purged within the dark side. That...and we don't know what other clues the visions could give us."

I threw up my hands. "And that's enough for you? You're completely fine having these visions mess with our heads in the hope that one day we'll just wake up with all the answers?"

"Of course I'm not _fine_ with—"

"Then get rid of them!"

"I can’t!” She met my eyes—her gray gaze intense. “ _We_ can't because I don't know _how_. These visions are involuntary."

My shoulders fell. Of course...I should have known. Why was I bothering Bastila with these problems? If I didn't know how to stop them, then how could I expect her to? I sighed, leaning against the wall, rubbing my face.

"I'm sorry," I muttered into my hand. "I really shouldn't have snapped at you like that. It's just...these dreams are really messing with me. I have this _feeling_. Like there should be something in these visions...but..."

_You can go back—_

A warm hand touched my shoulder. I glanced down into Bastila's face. A sadness grew within our bond that matched the one she felt under the willow tree. Her gray eyes were infectious and drew me in like gravity wells.

"I...understand," she said. "After all, I'm having these visions too. Just...know that I'm here to help you combat the darkness. We need each other."

"We need each other?" After a silent moment, a smirk crept up my face. "Was that another confession?"

"Another confess—? What do you mean?"

"Of love, Bastila. A confession of _love_."

She released my shoulder with a flinch. " _What?_ That was—no of course not! That wasn't a confession."

"Uh huh, _sure_."

She huffed. "I was _trying_ to support you but if your _teasing_ is all I get in return..."

I gasped. "Support me? The protocol droid has found a heart! It's a miracle!" I ran up to the door, opening it and shouting out. "Hey, guess what, folks! Bastila has feelings!"

"Shut up!" she shouted at me from behind. I twisted around catching red lighting her features. She shook and held her forehead. "I just don't know how to deal with you anymore."

I shrugged. "You'll just have to deal with the way that I am, sunshine."

The Jedi pursed her lips right as Mission ran into the room.

"What's this about feelings?" she asked.

"It's _nothing—"_

I waved a hand. "You know that stupid rule the Jedi have about emotions?"

" _Stupid rule—_!"

"Yeah?" Mission asked.

"Bastila broke the rules."

"I _did not_. It was merely a show of comradery—"

"Wow, Bastila, I thought you were going to remain an ice queen forever. Good job finally melting your cold heart," Mission said with a thumbs up.

" _Ice queen?_ "

"Yeah, it's what Wessy calls—" I glared down at her. Mission waved her hands. "I meant—ha, ha! Just me joking around like always."

She glared at me. I laughed nervously. So dead. Dead as dead can be. 

An hour later, I checked my food, glancing towards Bastila who hadn't spoken to me since that morning. You know, just in case someone had slipped poison...

* * *

The planet of Tatooine appeared scorched even as we glided in orbit. The binary suns glared into the bridge windows and the pale planet slowly spun on its axis. Bastila and Carth sat at the controls while I held a comm up to my face. I sighed into the receiver.

"Look, we requested to land an hour ago. You either find some space in your fodder stained hanger or we'll go somewhere else with our multiple piles of credits."

Bastila glared back at me, but I ignored her. The opposite end hissed.

"I-I'm sorry, sir, but we just let another ship land. We have no more room—"

"Then make room! You Czerka are resourceful. Make it happen."

"Y-Yes, sir. Please wait a moment, sir."

Carth snorted. “ _Sir_?”

I ignored the pilot and spoke into the comm again.

"How long, _exactly_ , will this moment take?"

"Ten minutes."

I glared down at the comm within my hand. Damn Czerka. When I glanced away from the comm, Carth and Bastila were both eyeing me like I was a miracle worker. I shrugged.

"Credits make the galaxy shine. Especially for scum like Czerka."

Ignoring me, they returned to piloting the ship, orbiting around the desert world. After five minutes passed, the comm fizzed.

"You have clearance to land in port Delta A."

Smirking, I waved the comm.

"See?"

Both shook their heads.

Carth landed the ship on one of the only cities on this rock—Anchorhead. I remembered little of the hellhole besides their cantinas and arenas of course. Sure, most of my jobs as a smuggler revolved around the Outer Rim worlds, but Tatooine was a newer settlement. It hadn't been around long enough to gain too much...notoriety. I must have been to the desert planet once if not twice. And I didn’t enjoy either of those times.

As soon as we landed, Bastila stood. "Call the others for a meeting. We need a plan."

For once, I agreed with the Jedi.

A few minutes later, all of us circled around the holoprojector displaying a detailed map of Tatooine. I stood between Bastila and Mission while leaning against the metal of the projector while Carth stood as far away from me as possible. I smirked at him. Still wasn't going to speak to me, huh?

It took longer for the Mandalorian to grumble into the room.

"This is a waste of my time..." he muttered.

Bastila glared at the warrior. "Now that all of us are finally here, we need to come up with a plan in order to find the Star Map." She glared at me. " _Without_ distractions."

Rolling my eyes, I leaned away from the projector then eyed the map. "We had a vision of Revan and Malak finding the Star Map within a cave filled with ancient statues." I pointed at multiple lines of brown. "There's hundreds of cave systems on Tatooine though. So, unless you want to spend years hunting around in the dark...we have a lot of asking around to do."

"Also," Bastila added, "the cave is tainted with the dark side. The closer we get to the Star Map, the easier we will be able to sense it."

"What do you want us to do then?" Mission asked. "Ask around if people have seen strange statues in caves?"

Zaalbar huffed a protest. "I don't do well in heat..."

I smirked up at the Wookiee. "That's fine, you can just stay here with Carth."

The soldier flinched.

"Wait, I’m staying here?"

"Someone needs to watch the ship," I said. "What if we need to jump out of here in an emergency? Only you could fly the Ebon Hawk fast enough."

"I thought you said that we were too far out for the Sith to notice us?"

I shrugged. "There’s nothing wrong with being _cautious_ , Orangy." Grumbling, the soldier backed down, shaking his head. I faced the map again. "I’ll start at the cantinas—"

"I'm coming with you," Bastila interrupted.

A smirk grew on my face. "I didn't know you wanted to go on a date with me so badly. I would've chosen a theme park or a holofilm...but if a cantina in a blistering desert is alright with you..."

She grew red. "That isn't—!"

I cut her off. “Mission you're coming with us too. After all, you helped a lot scouting those cantinas out on Taris." I glanced towards Juhani and Canderous. "And you two will—"

"With _him_?" the Cathar interrupted, glaring at the Mandalorian.

I sighed. _These people..._

" _Yes_ , with him," I said. "Is that a problem?"

"I will not pair up with a bloodthirsty Mandalorian," she spat. " _Never_."

Canderous snorted. "None taken, sister."

I crossed my arms. "He might be a bit...well, unsavory, but he isn't too bad."

"I do not wish to be tested, Wes," Juhani said, yellow eyes pleading. "If I'm with him then...I might fall again. I do not want..."

I pursed my lips, searching within the map of Tatooine. The Cathar has been on edge since her prodigal incident recently. And I didn't want her killing anyone...or turning to the dark side either. So, I shook my head, sighing. "Then I suppose you can just follow us. We will investigate Czerka later."

"Czerka?" Bastila asked. "Why Czerka?"

"Last time I was here, Czerka was strip-mining the planet for...well, honestly, nothing but useless rocks. They will have detailed info on cave systems though."

She nodded. “True."

The Mandalorian huffed. "I'm not sitting around the Hawk with flyboy."

Carth glared at him.

I rubbed my face. _Please...for once will these people stop arguing._ "I really don't care what you do, Canderous," I said. "Eat, drink, do a tach walk. It's a free galaxy."

And with that, the Mandalorian stomped towards the ramp. Probably won't see him for another week...

T3 rolled up then beeped a question over what he could possibly do. I smiled down at the droid. "Sorry, but I don't want to be tripping over you buddy." The droid deflated, rolling backwards towards the hyperdrive.

With our objectives laid out, we began to prepare to leave. Before I headed towards my dorm to drop off my robe, I was stopped by Carth.

"Look, before you go..." he started. "I just wanted to apologize."

I perked up, a small smile marking my lips. "Sorry, had some Hutt saliva stuck in my ears. What was that?"

"I _said_ I wanted to apologize, moron." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I've been thinking about all this, about the Jedi, about Bastila. And I think I’ve been going about this the wrong way. My fight is with Saul, not you. Not the Jedi. I shouldn't let my past get in the way of the mission. And...I've been a real pain in your ass, haven't I?"

"Pain in the ass? Sure. Paranoid bastard? Hell, yeah."

Carth gave me a strained smile. "You didn't have to agree with me, you know."

"What can I say?" I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "Brutal honesty is better than sweet dishonesty at the end of the day. At the very least it doesn't get you killed."

"Killed?"

"I've been lied to before. Most times I ended up with my shields flashing at ten percent and detours into Corellia's atmosphere. Believe me, I hate backstabbing traitors just as much as you do. So, I'll be the first to let you know."

Carth finally smiled at me, the coldness in his face disappearing. "Well, I mean, if you think about it that way...it means we actually have a lot in common."

I jabbed a finger at him.

"Hell no. We have nothing in common, soldier. _Nothing_."

He raised his hands. "Alright, alright. Didn't know that would be so offensive. Jeez."

With that, I stormed off towards the dorms to drop off my cloak. Checking my lightsaber before I left, I made my way to the ramp where Bastila along with Mission and Juhani waited for me. We stepped out into the bright sunlight soon after I arrived.

Czerka workers swarmed by the dozen around the spaceport. A few shuttles landed and took off only to be inspected by the Corporation. The four of us walked down the ramp—Bastila intent, Mission awed, and Juhani suspicious with the bustling activity.

I sneered when a Czerka lackey strode up to us.

"Welcome to Anchorhead. Is this trip business or pleasure?"

"Who the hell would want to come here?" I asked.

Bastila elbowed me hard in the ribs.

"Business, thank you."

He looked down at our lightsabers. "Jedi, are you? Hmm..." The man held up a datapad while shaking his head. "Well, it seems as if you made an unscheduled landing on a spot reserved for a company dignitary. Unfortunately, this means you will have to pay a small landing fee of 100 credits."

I shoved down the datapad he rudely sunk himself into. He glared at me.

"Look, money firaxen, is it possible for you to—I don't know—make this fee disappear?"

The man's face scrunched. "Well, in fact— _no_ . It takes credits to maintain your ship, _Jedi_ . And this dignitary paid handsomely in advance, _sir_."

Sighing, I dug through my pockets, taking out a credit chip. The man greedily held out his hand and I reluctantly shoved the thing into the slime's fingers. Better to pay the annoying company employees than hold out. It's no wonder why they've obtained billions of credits. Damn Czerka.

The ramp closed as soon as we finished our exchange. As we stood there, Mission pulled at my sleeve.

"So...if Griff is supposedly working for Czerka, why don't you just let me go look for him? I'm not a kid. I can take care of myself."

I glanced down at her then shrugged. "Czerka are a bunch of core slimes. I have a feeling you won't like what they have to say. We'll ask around for your brother. Together."

"How do you know?" she asked. "Did you sense it through the Force?"

I snorted. "I _wish_ I could sense things like that through the Force. Then my days wouldn't have to be so stressful. I could just avoid landing fees all I want."

Bastila coughed from behind as if reminding me of her existence.

"Are we going to go or not?"

" _Patience_ , young Jedi." I said, smirking. In return, she gave me a blank stare.

Juhani sighed at our antics.

We entered the city of Anchorhead. Hundreds of speeders and pedestrians passed through the narrow streets. Most of the buildings were simple in design compared to Taris or Coruscant—adobe clay patios and walls built with the more modern sonic generators and doors. I always thought that was a strange combination. The city itself, however, was a step above Dantooine’s villages. Though that didn’t say much...

I led Mission, Juhani, and Bastila through the disorganized streets—none of them had visited the planet before so I was the designated leader. We waited at the edge of the dirty road for an opening to cross over to one of the cantinas across the street.

Almost immediately, a speeder zoomed past and barely clipped my chest.

I raised my clenched fist, "Watch where you're going, core slime!"

The dark hooded man driving the vehicle, however, continued as if I had been a minor inconvenience in the road. Bastila was, of course, not impressed.

"Remind me not to get behind the wheel of a speeder with you," she muttered.

Mission nodded her head in agreement. And Juhani sighed. Again.

We combed through the crowds, watching for pickpockets and any other vagabonds. Or, well, at least I was. Soon we arrived at our first cantina. The place was crowded and musty with cigar smoke and booze—blinding most of my senses. So much so that I almost stepped on the feet of a stinking Gamorrean. The pig grunted at me once in its language before storming out.

Once we got our bearings, we began our hunt for information. My way, of course. I ordered three drinks, one for Bastila, Juhani, and me.

Bastila gripped the bar and hissed at me.

"I don't drink," she said.

Juhani frowned. “Neither do I.”

_Kriff, they just liked making this difficult._

I passed a credit chip to the bartender then pushed drinks into their hands anyway. "We'll look weird if we don't drink in a cantina, ladies."

They both glared down at it like Sasha did to the synthesized mush.

Mission pushed them both aside. "Hey! What about me?"

"What about you?"

"Why didn't you order me one?"

I shrugged. "You're underage."

Mission huffed. “I’m not a kid. I’ve had drinks before.”

“So?”

Bastila snorted as if trying to stop from laughing as she put down the cup without even bothering to take a sip. I glared at her. What? I followed Republic law once in a while...

Bastila, Juhani, and I took seats at the bar while Mission remained standing over my shoulder, pouting like a spoiled brat. A range of aliens from all walks mingled at the bar, tables, and pazaak boards. I sighed. We had our work cut out for us. Most of the patrons had Czerka insignias on their jerkins. One of them must have some kind of info on caves. I drank from my cup and flinched. That...that was pure speeder fuel.

 _Now I remember_ exactly _why I hated this planet._

Juhani leaned forward.

“So...what’s the plan? Just ask around randomly or...?”

Bastila tapped her foot in the air. “Remember, we need to keep this mission a secret. If _they_ hear we’re searching for... _coordinates_ then they will be able to follow our every move.”

I frowned. “Well, sunshine, that just makes this ten times harder.” I pushed my drink far away then eyed the patrons again. I crossed my arms. “In the vision, there were people in front of that cave. Maybe if we found out who they were, we could get another lead.”

Bastila nodded with a hum. “Yes, perhaps they were Czerka. Who else would bother with caves?”

“Most folk here are Czerka. You see their collars? That company stamps their insignia all over them like tamed bantha. Those people didn’t have anything like that.”

“But who else?” She shook her head. “No, Czerka is our only lead at the moment.”

While she had been speaking, I noticed a crowded bunch in the corner. A bunch that lacked those obnoxious Czerka symbols. All of them had blasters and grenades at their belts, drinking, speaking boisterously to themselves. And they looked a lot like the people Revan and Malak killed in the vision.

Before Bastila could go on another rant—I waved at the bartender. "Who are those people?" I asked, pointing at the group.

The Bith slid the drinks in his hands over to a couple before crossing his arms. 

"You an off-worlder?"

"Why—would I be asking if I wasn’t?"

The Bith rubbed his bald head, sighing. "Those are freelance hunters hired by Czerka. A crazed lot, all of ‘em. It's safer to earn money in the mines than out there with the sand people." He shrugged. "All of them come into my cantina like they own the galaxy. They're a nuisance."

I sat back, rubbing my stubbled chin, deep in thought. When I gave Bastila a look, she seemed to understand where I was going with this.

"I'll be right back." I stood then glared at Mission. "Don't drink from that while I'm gone, you hear?"

Mission puffed a lip. " _Fine_."

Something grabbed my tan sleeve. I glanced down at Bastila, ready to hear her demand for her to come along. But, instead, she shook her head.

"Don't do anything foolish..."

I pulled my arm away from her grip as I headed towards the table.

Half the hunters at the table were aliens while the other half human. They all looked up at me as I sauntered over with a thin smile on my face.

A black haired man glared at me, lowering his drink. "For the last time, we don't play pazaak— "

"No, not that," I said. "I just have a few questions."

Another hunter, a green Twi'lek, sneered. "What do we look like? Information droids? Move along, scum."

I searched my pockets, pulling out a credit chip. "For a round."

The hunters glanced between each other before smiling, kicking back an empty chair.

"You have our attention," the black-haired hunter said. 

I sat in the chair. When a Twi'lek waitress came by, I handed her the credit chip and ordered the round. Meanwhile, the hunters finished what was left in their cups while eyeing me like I had an antenna for ears.

The drinks came and the new cups slid onto the table. I leaned forward. "Have any of you seen anything...unusual out there?"

A Bith hunter sat up. "You mean besides Tanis' wife?"

The black haired man, which I assumed was Tanis, shoved the alien's shoulder.

"Shut it."

I sighed. Well, it wasn't as if all hunters explored cave systems. Before they lost interest in me, I tried another question—remembering a minor detail from the dream.

"Have any of you heard of a Komad? A green Twi'lek? Hunter like you?"

At this, the hunters sat up, finally giving me their full attention.

The green Twi’lek tilted his head. "Komad? Why are you asking about him?"

 _Finally_. I smiled. "He owes a debt, and I’ve been sent to collect."

They all looked between each other before Tanis shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Komad died two years ago hunting the local Krayt Dragon. You're never getting paid," he said.

I almost spit out my drink. " _Krayt_ Dragon?"

"Yeah, the Krayt Dragon." Tanis sneered. "All the crazies used to go off trying to kill the thing for it's pearl. If you ask me, I'd rather stick to killing wraids with my battle droids."

I stood. "Where?" I asked. "Where's the Krayt?"

The Twi’lek gave me a confused stare. "Wait, why do _you_ want to find that thing? Didn’t you just say you were after a debt—"

I slammed my hands onto the table. "Tell me!"

"Alright, alright, jeez, settle down." The Twi’lek waved a green hand. "No one except the sand people know where the Krayt Dragon is now. Everyone that tried hunting it died and no one's bothered looking for it since. It's long gone by now. Just give up—"

I shot up then waved a dismissive hand behind me as I left. 

"Thanks but no thanks!"

Ignoring the hunters muttering about my insanity, I pushed past the crowd of people towards the bar where I last left Mission, Juhani, and Bastila. We finally had something—if only a small something. Even if it was a monstrous Krayt Dragon and all. Yeah, now that I think about it, a Krayt is even worse than excavating for the Star Map in the dark. Why was I so thrilled by this discovery?

I finally squeezed past the sweaty humans and aliens to the bar only to find three lonely drinks and a Rodian couple.

Twisting around, I tried searching the cantina but was met with nothing but a wall of stench. Closing my eyes, I searched through the bond for Bastila, weaving through the people before realizing...she wasn't _there_.

— _the_ hell _did you go?_

Alright, I admit. I have never tried using the bond for anything other than to sense Bastila's location and emotions. It was weird enough that we could sense that, but to actually communicate into her mind? That was too much of a break in privacy.

Before I received a response, something shoved into my shoulder. Ignoring it, I searched the bond again. _Bastila, Bastila,_ _answer me!_ Why did she leave? I mean, I understand searching for information, but we were supposed to stick together!

I went to reach for my comm but someone grabbed my shoulder.

_Run! Now!_

The hand that grabbed my shoulder was dark, firm. In the next second, I predicted a gloved finger depressing the switch of a lightsaber into my back. I gripped the metal of my own lightsaber, twirling away to the left, igniting the blue blade. A red blade clashed into mine.

The crowd clamored away from the light. Past the humming lightsabers, I saw my attacker. A cloaked man—like the one that almost ran me over. His yellow eyes tightened into a glare, his mouth covered with a dark cloth.

A Sith.

 _How the_ kriff _did they find us already?_

Before I reacted to the attack, the lightsaber was replaced with a gloved hand. I extinguished the blade of my lightsaber as I was thrown into the crowd of people, over the bar, over the drinks, colliding with server Twi'leks, before crashing on the drink shelf. Numerous bottles fell and I used the Force to prevent some from bashing into my skull and sent them to the floor with a crash. Damn it! Why, of all places, did the Sith decide to attack here?

Dripping with multiple kinds of alcohol—smelling like a drunk—I pulled myself up using the bar. The Bith shouted down at me, but I didn’t comprehend his words when the cloaked Sith sailed over the bar bearing his red lightsaber. I blocked a downward strike then twisted the blade away from a poor Twi’lek server cowering beneath the overturned shelf.

Sparks hissed at my feet. I grunted in pain, trying to hold the block, then kicked the Sith in his torso—intensifying the kick using the Force.

_Bastila!_

The dark Jedi went flying over the bar, but instead of extinguishing his lightsaber like I did, the blade pierced a poor Rodian as he landed. The bar goers shrieked in terror and began to rush out of the cantina. The Rodian's friends took out blasters and aimed at the dark Jedi.

The Sith didn't even look as he backhanded the bolts back at the aliens using his lightsaber.

I froze.

If we continued to fight here...than how many more were going to die in the crossfire? What if I accidentally killed someone?

I leapt over the bar again and eyed the exit. The Sith crashed his blade onto me again, stroke after painful stroke. I continued to block the red lightsaber as I made for the door—not risking a dodge in fear of the crowd around us. Not used to this sort of brutal defensive technique, my arms began to sore. The Sith grew more confident and powerful as he pounded into my lightsaber like a hammer.

My back hit the wall. Cursing, I dodged and his blade burrowed into sandstone. I ran to the door and into the streets. The people trying to leave the cantina shied away from me as I waited for the Sith that lay beyond the darkness of the cantina.

The cloaked man rushed out. Like a bantha fighter, I dodged and tried to cut his side. I bulked when my lightsaber stopped centimeters away from his cloak, the red blade hissing sparks again. How—? How was he so fast?

Something knocked the wind out of me. A leg punched into my chest as he twirled around out of the block. I connected with the dry road while I heard the hiss descend. Before it had a chance to kill me, I rolled away while throwing a strong wave at the Sith. Sand flew up after him as he shouted in surprise. His dark body collided hard into an opposite wall.

I took the lightsaber staff he dropped using the Force and pushed my own blade into his face. Blood pooled down his forehead.

"How did you know where to find us?" I shook my blade closer. “Answer me!”

His laughs started softly before they escalated into a maddening echo. I merely stared at him as he attempted to sit up.

After a minute, he was silent. "Lord Malak...sends his regards."

 _Wes_!

Before I felt relieved at Bastila's appearance, I sensed a disturbance below me. Within the Sith's hands was a thermal detonator.

I tried to back up but it was too late. I was too close. Fire ripped through the plaza.

The last thing I felt was a powerful shove from afar.


	20. Tatooine: Lingering Regrets

_"Don't think I don't know."_

_"Know what?"_

_"You sneaking around past hours. I wasn't born yesterday. You're planning something."_

_"Uh, so I can’t go for a piss at night anymore without ‘planning’ something?"_

_"You always look up."_

_"What?"_

_"When you_ lie _."_

_"You've got me. I've been looking for Sith artifacts hidden in the restricted section. I found Exar Khun's holocron—"_

_"You also start spouting bullshit when you're caught in a lie."_

_“...”_

_"Look, whatever you're getting yourself into, I'll back you up in a heartbeat."_

_“Believe me. I've already made up my mind. You won't be any help."_

_"And what, exactly, is this subject that you've made your mind up on?"_

_“...”_

_"Come on, pal. You know how I hate being left in the dark."_

_“But sometimes...sometimes it’s better that way.”_

* * *

The incoherent whispers dissipated into the nether regions of my mind. When I awoke, I felt shifted, bruised. A hard bed was beneath me, clean air above me. My right side hurt like hell, my hand throbbed. Lifting my head carefully, I took in the white ceiling—the med bay of the Ebon Hawk. When I moved an arm, bandages brushed against my skin.

I sat up, tenderly, feeling my head—cold kolto curing the burns there as well. Why was I getting treated for burns? What happened?

That's when I remembered.

I went to stand and grabbed for my lightsaber at my belt. But the many burns along the right side of my body caused me to suck in a pained breath instead. I collapsed onto the hard rock spread with a sigh.

Someone walked into the room and I knew even without looking who it was.

"Don't move. You're still recovering," Bastila said.

My head fell onto the small pillow and I rolled my eyes up to the white ceiling once again. "What time is it?"

"2100."

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Half a day now."

I paused, rubbing kolto solution out of my eye. "How big was that explosion? Did it—"

— _kill everyone there?_

But the words never left my mouth. The Jedi felt sympathetic through our bond, more than likely sensing my horror and guilt. I tried to push her out of my mind but it was like pushing away a warm meal while starving.

Bastila sat on the chair beside the bed.

"The explosion killed everyone that was unable to escape the blast radius."

I forgot the warmth then, replacing it with cold anger. "Where were you?" I asked. "I thought we were supposed to stay together?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't have ignored our bond then," she said, crossing her arms. "When you left, two Sith assassins entered the cantina. Mission, Juhani, and I led one of them in the alleyway where he attacked us. I tried contacting you multiple times while you were off doing who knows what. You refused to listen."

"What are you talking about? I listen—"

"Only when _you_ thought it was important enough."

I kept my gaze locked within the Jedi's before finally giving up, laying back down once again. Why did I always turn into a cowardly mynock around her?

An awkward minute passed before she continued. "The Sith didn't just attack us. They _tracked_ us here. This was no accident. Somehow, they learned that we were on the move."

I sighed as I sat up further. "Probably one of those Czerka bastards leaked our position to the Sith. No wonder it took an hour to land.”

"That's not all," she said.

"There's _more?_ "

Holding a datapad, she seemed to hesitate before placing it onto my lap. Taking it up with my uninjured left hand, I scanned the message:

_Bastila Shan has escaped Taris on a ship called the Ebon Hawk. You three have been dispatched to Tatooine to find a woman with brown hair and pigtails: Talravin accent. You are also searching for a Jedi that should be traveling with her, a male human with shoulder length dark hair: Coruscanti accent. Dead or alive. Say nothing of this to your fellow Sith. Penalty for failure is death._

I lowered the datapad.

"They're Jedi hunters," I said.

"Yes, obviously."

I scanned the message again. They mentioned me as well. Odd. Maybe they were just desperate to convert or kill any old Jedi. Just like what Master Vrook and Master Zhar...

But, _wait_ , how did they know I was a Jedi? I wasn't one on Taris and I swear we didn't run into Malak on Dantooine unless Bastila bumped my head in a few too many times. Had there been a spy at the Enclave?

The thought that someone had been watching me for a month sent a shiver down my spine.

I looked up from the abnormal message. "What do we do?" I held up the datapad. "There's one more out there looking for us."

"We'll have to be careful from here on out," she said. "Hide our lightsabers, our presence..."

"Well, yeah, I suppose we were practically broadcasting ourselves over the HoloNews network yesterday."

When she nodded slowly, I noticed something else bothering her at the edge of my mind—like a slight quiver or vibration. Before she had the chance to leave, I leaned forward.

"There's something troubling you," I said. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes wavered to the floor as if I was somehow there before coming up to meet the med bay's wall.

"I took watch outside the ship while you were unconscious. Last night, a friend of my father's came up to me. My mother is here. On the planet. And she’s close by."

I blinked once in surprise. Bastila's mother? The one that apparently was a jerk to her? My face brightened.

"That's great!"

She glared at me. "Great? How is that remotely _great_?"

"Well...she's your mother, right? Why isn't that great? You can catch up. Tell her about all your Jedi adventures—"

"No," she said. "No, no, _no_! A Jedi is supposed to let go of all previous connections."

"But what about your father? Don't you want to at least see him?"

"Not even him." She sighed. "Look, our mission comes first and foremost. No distractions. I don't expect you to understand—"

"I understand _perfectly._ " I crossed my arms, flinching at the burns. "You're running away."

"What?” She sputtered. “I am—I am _not—"_

"For Force sakes, woman, it isn't as if your mother is Darth Revan. What are you afraid of?"

"That—That _isn't—"_

"First thing tomorrow we'll go see her."

"You're injured."

"So? My legs still work."

"Why are you being so _insistent_?" she asked. "This is none of your business."

"So you don't like it when _your_ business is being meddled with, huh? Funny."

"That isn't the same. While I meddled for the fate of the galaxy, you are meddling for purely selfish reasons."

"What's so wrong about being selfish once and awhile?" I asked.

"You risk—"

"Falling to the dark side. See? I can complete all your sentences now. That's how laughably predictable you are."

She stood—the kinrath-pup-expression appeared on her face once again. Before I could say anything else, she shoved a finger into my face.

"We are _not_ going to see my parents. We are finding the Star Map and _leaving_ before more Sith assassins find us."

She twisted around, leaving me there alone in the medbay. I considered shouting after her but I realized doing so would be a waste of my energy. I laid back down, glaring at the ceiling once again.

I tried resting in the medbay for an hour, however, I couldn't fall back asleep on the hard thing no matter how long I closed my eyes. Since the painkillers were beginning to work through my system, I decided to stand, muttering curses in Mando'a as I did.

Kriffing Sith assassin. Committing suicide to kill me—killing innocent people in the process...somehow making _me_ feel guilty for it all.

They were true monsters.

Yeah, the drugs weren't enough. I'm pretty sure mixing alcohol with kolto won't cause _too_ many terrible effects. Hopefully.

I limped into the storage compartments and searched the bins. Tarisian ale. I hefted up the green bottle. Hate the stuff but it'll do.

I was surprised to find Canderous sitting by the holoprojector with a bottle himself. I sauntered into the kitchen, placed my own bottle in the cabinet, then grabbed a glass. I sat beside him, wincing.

A deep laugh rumbled from him.

"Nasty things, thermal detonators," he said. "You wouldn't expect such a small explosive to contain such a massive blast radius. A while back I chucked one into this small asteroid field. Some smugglers hid behind it thinking they could escape. As it turned out, the frozen gases on the rocks ended up frying their ships."

I smirked as I poured some of Canderous’ half empty bottle into my own glass. I took a painful swig.

"That's not even the whole story," Canderous continued. "One asteroid practically came to life, flicking molten shards at us, burning away armor and flew off."

"A ship?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. We followed it up to the Unknown Regions. No one is stupid enough to go into that great void."

I raised my glass. "Except the Sith."

He smirked, raising his glass with mine. "Except the Sith."

Afterwards, I finished my first glass and filled it up again. My chest began to buzz, my movements slightly delayed, however, instead of normally seeing double by now, the Force neutralized my reflexes. Funny—being drunk with control of the Force that is. Despite that sounding like a positive, it felt strange not succumbing to the effects of alcohol immediately.

"So, what about you?" Canderous asked. "I’ve given you my piece. I'm sure a smuggler turned Jedi has some crazy stories to tell."

I rubbed the rim of my glass with a smile. "No, not really. I'm not very interesting."

“More interesting than flyboy and that crazy Cathar." He leaned forward. "I noticed it when you fought the clan on Dantooine. You have the walk of a warrior. Did you fight in any battles during the war with my people?"

I spit the ale back into my glass. I took a moment to wipe my mouth while suppressing laughter.

" _Fight?_ In the war? Hell no! A battle is probably the last place you'd find me. I used to be a smuggler, remember? _Warrior_..." I shook my head, a smile still touching my lips. "Ridiculous."

"Really? You sure?" The old Mandalorian glanced down into his drink. "Strange, I'm never wrong. Well, if you didn't fight in the war, then why didn't you?"

"Not everyone wants to die in battle, Mando."

"Of course, not everyone desires that honor. But not you."

I stopped drinking and glared at him over the rim of the glass. 

"I had a ship to run. I couldn't just drop everything."

"Yet you dropped everything for this war. Why didn't you take up the fight for the last? Cowardly smugglers hide behind asteroid belts. But you? You jumped into a fire to save some kids. You hide behind nothing."

I placed my drink down on the armrest, creasing my eyebrows, glaring at him.

"Stop acting like you know me, Mando."

Canderous stared at me before eyeing his drink again.

"Of course..." I thought he was finished with his annoying questions, but an ugly smile spread across his face. "But you _wanted_ to join, didn't you?"

My mouth flew open before it closed again. The wall suddenly became interesting so I gazed towards it, avoiding the Mandalorian's smile.

Why _didn't_ I fight? Why didn't I sign up with the Republic Navy all those years ago? Deep down, I knew I would've abandoned the smuggling life in order to fight the people that destroyed my home. To help return the planets to the people of the Outer Rim. To be _bigger_ than what I was. What I knew I could be.

But I never did.

Was it because I was afraid? Because I didn't want to face my demons? Or maybe it was something else. But what? I never hesitated. Never regretted. Always _acted_. And I should have acted back then. 

_But why didn't I?_

Canderous stood up, taking his bottle.

"I don't care why you didn't join the fighting, Jedi. It's only a shame that we never met on the field of battle." He turned, walking off. "Probably never will now."

That's what this was.

A shame.

Would it have been worth it? Deralia wouldn't come back whether I fought or didn't fight the Mandalorians. It ended up for the better anyway. Revan defeated them while I didn't have to lift a finger. So, in hindsight, would it have been worth it?

Bitterness spread across my tongue and it wasn't because of the ale.

I took a drink.

It didn't matter and _shouldn't_ matter. All that mattered was the here and now. Not the what ifs or should have beens. Not my smuggling, cowardly past. Not what I used to be. Nor the decisions I never made.

* * *

"What an alcoholic..."

Carth's voice split my head. I opened my eyes with a sputter, peeling my injured head up from the hard chair beside me. I had fallen over in my sleep, a glass of Tarisian ale tipped over onto my lap. The light from the holoprojector was way too bright but Carth's orange jacket was brighter.

I rubbed dried drool from my mouth.

"What time?" I mumbled.

"Early." He sighed. "I can't believe a drunken slob like _you_ is a Jedi."

I snorted into the seat, using my left hand to clumsily lift myself up, grabbing the glass from my lap and setting it down on the armrest. I grabbed the bridge of my nose when my head began splitting again.

" _Kriiiff_..."

"That's what happens when you drink with kolto in your system."

"Alright, alright, I get it, orange, stop shouting."

"Oh, so it's just 'orange' now?" Carth asked.

I removed my hand, glaring into the sun that was Carth. "Your jacket looks like a _kriffing_ orange."

"I think I got that the first time. You didn't have to clarify."

"Why do you even wear that stupid thing?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. " _Right_...I'll just wait to talk to you later when you can speak Basic."

Carth walked off. Unfortunately, I was too exhausted to call after him.

The morning rays were shining far down the hall from the cockpit. It took me a while to gather the energy to stand. When I did, I headed towards the med bay, intent on filling myself up on painkillers. As I entered the hall, an energetic Twi'lek barged around the corner and into my torso.

Cursing, I held my side.

Mission backed up. "Oh! I'm sorry, Wessy! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I heaved. "Just fine."

"You look like a mess."

"Well, a thermal detonator does that to you."

A small smile lit her features. "I thought you were a goner, Wes. Bastila freaked...err, I mean—calmly used her magic to push you away like nothing!"

I walked into the med bay and Mission followed. 

"What's the rush anyway?"

I went through the medicine cabinet as she sputtered.

"Oh, nothing," she said. "What, I can't run around places without having a reason?"

I took out a bottle, measuring out a few pills. "Oh, sure. But it's more practical to save your energy for when you need it."

"I never run out of energy."

Swallowing the painkillers, I shook my hungover head. 

"Doubt it."

I closed the cabinets and walked towards the bridge to confront both Bastila and Carth. However, before I arrived, I was stopped by the Twi'lek's sigh.

"Alright, alright...I'll confess."

I twirled around, raising an eyebrow. "Confess _what_?"

She hesitated, her eyes twitching every which way, then she raised her hands up as if to shield herself. "I-I was only out there for an hour, I swear! And...don't blame Zaalbar for letting me out. I made him do it for seconds!"

My shoulders tightened and I clenched my teeth when pain from my wounds flared. 

"Are you crazy?" I shouted. “There's a Sith assassin out there. They could've found and tortured you for information—!"

"No! It's...well, I wasn't alone—Juhani came with me. Don't worry." She looked down at her feet bashfully. "I just couldn't wait, Wes. I'm sorry. I should've listened to you." Her shoulders sagged. "Not like it matters anymore."

My face softened as I tried to search Mission's deflated stance—like she had given up.

I sighed. "Well... fine." I rubbed the back of my head. "Look, the next time I'm hard on you like that, slap me."

Despite my joke, Mission didn't smile. Or even look up. "I went to the Czerka mines and asked around. Griff was captured by the Sand People when they attacked one of the mines. He's probably dead. I doubt that they'd...keep him, you know?"

The poor girl’s eyes began to water again. I reached out and shook her shoulder causing her to glance up, eyes holding back tears. I returned her look with a soft smile.

"The Mission I know doesn't give up," I said. "If he’s anything like his sister, he’s a survivor. We'll find him."

She shook her head, trying to keep herself composed, lekku falling off shoulders. "You don't know that for sure. It's not like you can just use the Force and _see_ that he's alright."

"You don't need to use the Force to have hope, Mission," I said, retracting my hand. "We'll pay the Sand People a visit."

"But how?" she asked. "You need a hunter's license to go out in the desert. I asked. They're not handing them out to people anymore."

A smirk spread onto my face. "Oh, they'll give one to us."

I patted her shoulder as I finally made my way to the bridge. Bastila and Carth sat in their usual seats. The Jedi refused to look at me and the soldier grimaced at my hungover state.

I coughed. “So, before I almost exploded into a million pieces, I learned something...interesting.”

I told them about the Krayt Dragon and neither of them seemed excited about the prospect of it. When I mentioned the Sand People and how only they would know where to find the Krayt, both sank into their seats further.

We really did have our work cut out for us. When I said this, Carth turned to face me.

"I don't think you're healthy enough to do any work, really."

I smirked. "I appreciate your wonderful concern, Carth, but some people work under worse conditions."

The soldier frowned. "You're kidding me."

"I'm kidding no one. I knew of a guy who lost an _arm_ and still plowed through a smuggling run. That's what I call dedication."

Bastila finally paid attention to the conversation, twisting around in her seat, crossing her arms.

"You're staying here."

I rolled my eyes. "When did I get another mother?"

"This isn't up for debate. You are in no condition to go out there again. If and when we _do_ run into that Sith assassin, you'll only strain—"

"Oh, so I'm the weakness in the group now, is that it?"

She blinked, confused. " _Weakness_? Of course not!"

"You don't have to worry about protecting me, sunshine. I've been through worse."

Despite jokingly winking at her, Bastila shot and rushed towards me. Pursing my lips, I went to take a step back but she raised her arm and tapped my side.

I hissed in pain then grabbed my side as if she had punched me there instead.

"What the hell was that for!"

She retracted, crossing her arms again. "It's obvious that you are not healthy enough to be going anywhere. You're staying here."

Then, with a flick of her pigtails, she walked off, out of the bridge.

I simmered for half a second before I noticed Carth. Damn the soldier to the depths of Korriban if he didn't stop _smirking_ at me. He stood and holstered his two pistols.

"Sorry, Wes. You'll have to sit out on this one." He nodded out towards the cockpit windows. "Watch the ship, right?"

Heat rose into my injured head. If I had the curses to shout at him then, I would've said them. Instead, I said nothing as Carth sauntered past me.

Limping over into the pilot's seat, I leaned onto the armrest, the pain in my side drifting away finally. The three figures of Mission, Bastila, and Carth left the hanger—Bastila's hood raised to hide her face.

Damn them all. How were they going to get around Anchorhead without my help anyway? How were they going to get those licenses? They were making a big mistake leaving me behind. Czerka were like putty if handled correctly. How would _Carth_ convince them to give us hunting licenses? Or Bastila? They'll only make things worse.

T3 rolled into the bridge while beeping a small concern. I winced as my hand accidentally buried into my cheek then snorted. 

"Now the droid's acting like my mother," I muttered. "Who the hell programmed you anyway?"

T3 beeped a happy response.

"Janice. Right." I waved a hand. "Go back to what you were doing, T3."

T3 fritzed.

"What do you mean you _can't_?" 

The droid beeped a few times. His master ordered for him to watch over me.

I crossed my arms, eyeing the ceiling. Bastila thought that placing a droid as my watch hound could detract me from doing anything stupid? _Really_?

T3-M4 rolled up beside me near the copilot's chair. For an hour I stared out the windows, counting the amount of times the repair droid circled around the Hawk. Or, wait, were there two repair droids?

Zaalbar stood somewhere down near the ramp, watching over the port, making sure no Sith assassins made the attempt to attack us again. A few minutes into my watch, the ramp descended, making way for the Mandalorian. Wonder where he was going this time?

Soon after, Juhani came into the bridge. "I heard from Bastila and the soldier." She passed the droid and sat behind the copilot's seat. "Are you alright?"

I huffed. "Why is everyone so damn concerned?"

"Of course we're concerned," she said. "You almost died. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Just stop worrying about me. It’s a waste of time."

"Waste of time?" The Cathar grew quiet for a few minutes before she perked up again. "Of course it’s not a waste of time. You're a greater Jedi than I. Strong in the Force. Wise beyond your years. Why are you always so hard on yourself, Gale?"

 _Great, here we go again._ I twisted around to glare at her.

"I told you—"

"You're not a Master. I shouldn't trust what you say. I know. I don't care." She crossed her arms. "I think I know why I listened to you by that river. You reminded me of the reason why I joined the Jedi."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, lowering her yellow eyes. "The reasons go back a number of years. I used to live in the hind end of space. A pit of a world. We did not see Jedi very often, but we heard of them. Champions of truth, defenders of justice, heroes of the Republic. I was so enthralled by their image, their mystique."

"How did you end up joining the Jedi then?" I asked.

"They visited my planet, rescued it in fact. When I saw a Jedi for the first time, they lived up to everything that I had imagined them to be. And when I heard tales of their leader..."

"Wait, who were these Jedi?" I asked.

She smiled sadly. "The Revanchists." She glanced down at the floor again, fidgeting with her fingers. "You probably think I'm falling to the dark side again."

"Why would I think that?" I asked.

She sighed before looking up at me again. "Despite the... _crimes_ they later committed, I always secretly looked up to them—what they accomplished and sacrificed. By that river, you... _well_ , to put it bluntly, you reminded me of those Jedi."

I grimaced. "Not sure how I feel about being compared to fallen Jedi, really."

"N-No, you didn't remind me of _Sith_ . You reminded me of the path that I took to become a _Jedi_. The Revanchists' sacrifices would've been for nothing if I continued down the dark path." She shook her head. "When you tried grabbing me from that river, I thought, 'How would those Jedi feel if I told them that the Cathar they saved years ago ended up turning into a self-loathing, power hungry Sith?'"

I looked out view-port again. The Revanchists either became Sith themselves or died during the Mandalorian Wars. I doubted that they cared anymore about the people they saved years ago. I didn't tell the Cathar this, however. Didn't want to crush her revelation.

So, instead, I sighed. "You place high expectations on me," I said. "Honestly, I didn’t even want to join this war. I'm not like those Jedi at all. I'm a selfish coward."

Juhani stood, loudly, causing me to glance over my shoulder. Her hands were in fists. "You may see yourself that way but I don't." She pointed at me, angry. "Please don't turn into another self-loathing Sith, Wes, or _I_ will fall too."

She stomped out, leaving me yet again confused. That Cathar...why did she always get angry over the littlest of things? Perhaps it _was_ something that I wasn't seeing.

Sitting back in the pilot's seat, I watched the port again—trying to put Juhani’s words out of my mind.

* * *

The droids bounced past the window 456—no, wait, 457 times. Before I could continue counting, a shadow exited a ship that was beside ours. I jumped up, peering past the glass down at the dark thin figure wearing a hood. Was that another Sith assassin? The man, or woman, stopped before one of the Czerka agents. A dangerous double-sided vibroblade hung over their shoulder.

"Juha—!"

I stopped from shouting out for the Jedi, however. We were supposed to stay in the ship no matter what and inform the outside group first of any problems. But the Sith assassin was _right there_. If I didn’t follow, they will disappear for good, then what?

The shadow passed a credit chip over to the Czerka agent.

Bastila was going to kill me for this.

I rushed out of my chair, ignoring T3's alarmed beeps. The droid rushed into my leg, almost tripping me. I banked then glared down at the droid.

"I'll be right back, alright?"

I stepped over the droid, heading towards the dorms, grabbing my robe. Throwing the hood over to hide my face, I left towards the ramp, wincing from the heat and my wounds as I descended. Zaalbar growled as I passed him.

"Where are you going?"

I waved back. "I saw something. Don’t worry, I'll be right back."

"Wait, what happened to staying on the ship?"

I ignored that protest as I pushed aside a few Czerka employees and weaved into the crowds of Anchorhead. Many heads blocked my view as I tried to find the dark figure again. Shoving away a large alien, I searched deep within the Force, trying to place the cold darkness I had sensed from before.

And finding it was almost _too_ easy.

I drifted towards the shady part of town, near the back alleyways where criminals—beside Czerka—cowered. Leftover gunk from broken trash compactors littered the side of the alleyways and small Kreetles crawled through the gunk. The shadow made a right turn, so I rushed ahead, hoping not to lose the assassin.

A Gamorrean blocked the alleyway.

"Where do yah think you're going, human?"

I sensed many lifeforms circling around me. I glanced up. On the roof, a few Twi'leks and Rodians had their blasters trained below. Behind, more Gamorrean pigs crowded the alleyway. All of them held up cortosis spears and axes.

 _Kriff_.

The first Gamorrean shuffled forward. "You're in our territory, little human. If you want to leave with your life, pay for protection."

Spit fell down like rain on my hood as the aliens laughed above me. Grimacing, I went for my lightsaber beneath my robes. The sound of blasters clacking caused me to freeze.

"Now, now. I'd think about that for a second, little human," he said. "You're surrounded. Ten against one. The odds aren't in your favor."

Damn. What he said was true. And I didn't have much of a chance—wounded as I was. Jedi or no. I raised my hands in surrender and the Gamorrean laughed at their success.

But—then—a blade pierced the pig from behind—cleaving cleanly through his stomach. The pig fell to his knees gurgling green fluids. His heavy body shook the ground as he collapsed.

Before I could react, the alien gangsters above shot at the Gamorrean's attacker—ignoring the person they tried to mug in the first place. Sneering in pain, I unleashed my lightsaber and cut the first Gamorrean that tried clubbing me from behind. The other gangsters cried out in fear.

"Jedi!"

I brushed off the axe of the second, burying the blade into the pig nose. Before I killed the last one—blaster bolts showered onto me. I deflected all of the bolts, fortunately, and—

Something collided into my injured side—a club. The last Gamorrean had taken advantage of my distraction. White shot my vision brighter than the blaster bolts and I fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The pig snorted slobbery laughs.

I expected either being shot or clobbered to death after that. Instead I was greeted with terrified screams and the sound of falling bodies.

Then silence.

I coughed, wiping my mouth—blood. Did the damn pig break my ribs again? Grasping my lightsaber, I crawled to the side of the building, hefting myself up so that I could see my possible savior.

The dark figure held a blaster in their hands. A double-sided vibroblade stuck in the Gamorrean below. The shadow didn't lower the blaster as they stepped over the pig's body while taking the vibroblade and sheathing it onto their back.

Finally, the shadow moved towards me.

I pulled myself onto my feet and ignored the pain that stabbed my body. Once again, I ignited my lightsaber, going into a defensive stance. The shadow froze, holding the blaster with two hands.

A blaster?

Wait...if this person was a Sith assassin, why would he use vibroblades and blasters? 

"Who are you and why are you following me?" she asked, a mask vibrating her voice.

I lowered my lightsaber by a centimeter and tried to peer past that dark hood of hers.

"Sorry, but I don't trust masked strangers. You understand."

The woman lowered the blaster briefly as she pulled back her hood, the black sheen of the mask daunting and cold. Yet familiar. Taking one hand, she pressed a button. The mask fell away, finally revealing a face. Her hair was pure white, face determined. An Echani? She raised the blaster again.

"I'll ask again—who are you and what do you want. Jedi?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm not exactly threatened by your blaster there," I said, nodding at my lightsaber.

"I've killed Force wielders before with this weapon. You aren't invincible."

Oh, so she killed Jedi before? Or Sith? I suppose she wasn't about to reveal her dark allegiances now, was she?

I smiled. "You can test that theory if you want."

Her white eyebrows raised, blaster wavering. "Now that's...not what a normal Jedi would say."

"Probably because I'm not a normal Jedi." I raised my lightsaber. "Now, you can tell me where you place your allegiances or you can carry out your worthless threat and get this fight over with."

The Echani hesitated, silver eyes glaring at me as she appeared to be thinking over my suggestion.

Then, without warning through the Force or otherwise, she shot with her blaster. I deflected the bolt into the side of the building, however, before I could go on the attack, the Echani disappeared into the alleyways.

I tried to run after her but my wounds protested under the pressure. _Shit, kriff, shutta._ This journey was all for nothing. That woman hadn’t even been an assassin. Bastila was going to kill me if my wounds didn't.

Despite the failure of this adventure, I had a feeling I was going to run into that mysterious Echani again...

When I returned to the ship, Zaalbar ran up to me, demanding for me to tell him what happened. I sighed, holding my side.

"Just help me to the med bay," I wheezed.

The Wookiee shook his head in mild disbelief. "You are probably the craziest human I've ever run across."

I smirked. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

Especially recently...

The Wookiee helped me to the med bay where I treated myself with a medpack, peeling back my robes and applying the medicine directly onto the ugly bruise. I held back pained grunts, biting my lip.

Alright, that's the last time I ever went on my own adventures. It obviously didn't go well for me. Lesson learned.

Meanwhile, the Wookiee crossed his furry arms in disproval. After the pain subsided, I glared up at him.

"You are telling _no one_ about this, you hear?"

Zaalbar growled, "You want me to lie?"

"Not lie. Keep quiet."

“That is a lie by omission.”

“ _Kriffin’—_ just don’t say anything.”

The Wookiee shook his head, shoulders falling. "Alright, Wes, but only because of my life debt." He pointed a dangerous claw at me. "But if anyone asks, they’ll know."

Zaalbar stomped off after that threat, leaving me in the med bay. I let the medpack work its magic and drifted off into a drugged sleep. I must have slept an hour—maybe two—before I awoke with a start.

 _T3_.

My side was still in pain as I pushed myself up then limped to the bridge. As I passed the communication room, I spotted the droid there fiddling with the computers—switching between holochannels.

The damn droid was trying to call Bastila.

I stomped into the room. Before the droid had the chance to retreat, I switched him off.

"Not so fast."

His light dimmed and the droid plug retracted from the computer. Smiling, I knelt beside the droid and pulled him away from the wall.

I worked on T3 using a sonic screw found in one of the storage bins. His behavior core was easy to access. I smirked as I created a few...personality traits. Call it revenge for making a _droid_ babysit me. When I finished with that, I added another part of T3's programming to wipe his memory at my command.

I turned him on afterwards in order to appreciate my fine work.

"T3," I said. "Forget the last two hours and replace them with a loop of the hour I was here."

Beeping happily, the droid fritzed then went on his way to the bridge. Sighing in relief, I followed him despite wanting to go back to sleep in the med bay. Nothing happened while I was gone. A strange Echani woman saved my life? _Please_.

As the binary suns set, Mission, Carth and Bastila returned to the ship. I glanced down at T3, worried that maybe I failed in my programming somehow. I pushed that feeling down as I sensed Bastila through our bond again and made for the ramp.

I crossed my arms as I met them at the garage.

"How'd it go?" I asked.

Bastila glared at me. "I sensed pain through the Force," she said "What happened?"

Kriff. Always I forgot that stupid bond.

I looked up. "I tripped over T3 when I tried going to the fresher." My smile grew. " _Perhaps_ if someone trusted me..."

Bastila grew pale and she didn't respond. Instead, she marched past me into the garage towards the bridge. My smirk remained on my face as I watched her leave. She was in for a little surprise.

Mission peered up at me. "So...we got the hunting licenses.”

"Really?" I paused, glancing towards Carth. They didn't exactly look... _pleased_ about this development. "What's the catch?"

The soldier sighed as the ramp closed behind him. "We have to kill the Sand People chieftain for his gaffi stick and we have two weeks to do it."

The Sand People were brutal butchers—barbarians by any means. Normally I would have had no qualms about killing the lot of them, however, we needed both information _and_ one of their prisoners. We would get neither if we went in there lightsabers blazing.

I smiled darkly. "Do any of you understand Sand People?"

Carth frowned. "That's what we were going to ask you."

So, we were stuck again. Without understanding the Sand People, we could never learn the location of the Star Map’s cave.

Mission and Carth both left to get dinner. Before I followed them, however, Bastila stomped into the garage. I twisted and caught a fierce look that was—obviously—directed at me. A red spot throbbed on her forehead.

"Why is the droid _tripping_ me?"

I looked away while covering a smirk with my hand. T3 rolled after Bastila—beeping something about being a loyal servant. The Jedi sputtered as the droid rammed into her heels.

I couldn't hold it back any longer. I took my hand off my mouth, laughing.

Bastila was not impressed.

"This isn't _funny!"_

T3 tried ramming into her heels again only for her to dodge. I held my sides as I laughed harder, rubbing away tears that began to form, mostly from the pain.

"Fix it," she ordered. " _Now!_ "

I stifled my laughs as I responded. "Fix...what? It's an improvement."

" _Improvement!_ " she shrieked. T3 went after her again, only for her to leap around the droid. "You are an evil, _evil_ man!"

After a minute of Bastila trying to dodge the droid, I raised a hand, shaking my head.

"Alright, alright, T3 stop."

The droid stopped attacking the Jedi's heels then began humming a song as he rolled away. Bastila huffed, a piece of hair stuck in her mouth. Straightening her robe, she crossed her arms, chest puffing.

"What did you _do_?"

I shrugged. "I thought that my babysitter needed a better sense of humor. It was rather dull, you know, sitting in the bridge all day."

"You were _supposed_ to watch for Sith."

"Zaalbar was already doing that."

"But _you_ were supposed to do that too." She sighed, rubbing her face. "Just...fix the droid. Please?"

I nodded my head with a stretched smile. "Of course." Before the Jedi left, however, I frowned. "I didn't exactly... appreciate your little watchdog there. Do you really not trust me?"

She stopped. "I only did it because I was worried about you."

"What's there to worry about?" I asked.

"There's plenty to worry about with _you_ .” She twisted around to face me. “You are reckless _,_ stubborn _, impossibly_ disobedient _—_ "

"Then what was the point of making T3 watch over me if that's the case? A droid couldn't stop me."

"Of course, of course. It's just..." She pursed her lips. "The thing is, I felt...well..."

I crossed my arms. "Go on."

She glanced away from my eyes as if I was judging her every word. "I felt responsible for what occurred between you and the Sith. If only I had gone after you instead of escaping the cantina as I had..."

 _Kriff_. She was apologizing.

My heart dropped as she glanced up, genuinely ashamed for what occurred. I was an immature shutta, wasn't I? What good would hiding the truth from her be? I wasn't some teenager trying to hide my midnight trips out into the city. I was a Jedi. A Padawan.

She won. Why did she always win?

A second passed before I groaned.

"I left the ship."

She glanced up, confused. "Wha—?"

"I thought I saw a Sith assassin...but it turned out to be a stupid mistake."

However, instead of anger spreading on her face—as I expected—her face softened.

"You didn't trip over T3 then?"

I suspiciously looked at her. "Almost did but, as you've demonstrated, it's not hard to dodge him."

She sighed. "I suppose all of this is my fault."

"Your fault?" I raised an eyebrow. "What? I lied to you. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, mad at me?"

"Of course I'm not... _mad_ at you," she said. "Yes, I'm upset that you didn't tell me about this at first...but you told me the truth anyway."

I rubbed the back of my head. "I...suppose so?"

This woman was so damn... _confusing_. I had expected an avalanche of lectures from her. The one to top them all. Perhaps... Bastila wasn't as predictable as I first thought her to, unfairly, be. There was still so much to learn from her, despite denying that to Tatooine's moons. Maybe, at the end of it all, her forgiveness was all that I needed to see that to be true.

Bastila shoved a finger into my chest.

"You're still fixing the droid," she said.

My smile warped into a smirk. "You sure? T3's sense of humor has really grown on me."

"That's because it's _your_ sense of humor."

"So you didn't laugh?"

"Why would I be _laughing_? It's terrible!"

"Terrible?" I frowned. "I suppose there's still some work to be done to melt that humorless heart of yours."

Instead of arguing back, she shoved past me towards the main foyer of the Hawk. Smiling, I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

Now, I would say that I _eventually_ fixed T3. But that eventually could wait. 

A few years.


	21. Tatooine: A Happy Reunion

For the next few days, I rested in the cockpit as Carth, Mission, Juhani, and Bastila searched for some kind of lead on a Sand People translator. And so far, after two days of looking, they found nothing—only a Hutt that went by the name of Motta. But he would only translate for a price.  _ One million credits,  _ that is. 

Fortunately, the Sith assassin hadn’t shown his face yet. Probably scared to death of our awesome power.  _ Or he’s getting reinforcements.  _ Other than that, Tatooine was plagued by the usual problems Outer Rim planets faced. Gangs prowled. Bounty hunters hunted. And Czerka enslaved. 

I leaned back in the pilot’s seat and itched my bare neck. The bandages had peeled off this morning revealing healthy skin from what was once a red hot mess. Now all that was left of my recovery was annoying kolto rashes and stagnant impatience. I swear, if Bastila didn't let me go out with them tomorrow...I'll turn funny T3 back on. And no amount of begging was going to convince me otherwise.

When four figures made their way to the ship, I sat up with a smile. My boredom was finally over. I pushed a button to lower the ramp and rushed to the garage. I waved at Juhani although I don't think she noticed the gesture as she stormed past. Mission skipped off after her as if she had won the Core World lottery. 

"What's she all excited about?" I asked.

"We found...something," Bastila said. "In a few days, Czerka is going to auction off all of their surplus droids. Apparently, one is a translator droid that can understand every language. Including Sand People."

"Really," I said. “Huh.”

I hadn't actually expected them to find anything this time. 

"I wouldn't get our hopes up," Carth said. "If this is an auction, then you can expect high bids. We need to scrounge up enough credits to beat out the competition in two days."

Bastila shrugged. "Yes, but at the moment that is our only option."

"Well," I said with a smirk, "there's the ‘sneak into Czerka’s storage units and steal the droid' option."

The Jedi glared at me. "That is  _ never  _ going to be an option. We need to keep a low profile, remember?"

Oh well. Can't say that I didn't try.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating dinner and coming up with a plan to buy the droid. All of us—minus the absentee Mandalorian—pooled our money together. Even with Mission’s funds, that only left us with 3,450 credits. Barely enough to enter in for bidding.

Mission, of course, suggested she...poke around in some abodes to get some more goods. Bastila and Carth were vehemently against the idea for obvious reasons. There was a pazaak scene on Tatooine as well that I could...influence. And, for obvious reasons, Bastila was against that idea as well. She was probably right—pazaak players were always looking to accuse someone of “counting.”  I crossed my arms and tapped my foot against the floor as I gazed down at the pile of credits. Then, I remembered something. Sasha had said that a bounty had been put on Liam by Czerka. And they brought him to Tatooine. If we all became bounty hunters, we could both get the needed credits and try to find clues on Liam’s whereabouts at the same time.

Bastila frowned—probably noticing the smirk climbing onto my face.

“What are you scheming about now?”

I chuckled. “It’s quite simple. We have a hunting license, right? Well then, why don’t we just use that to do some bounty hunting?”

Carth and Bastila did not look impressed. Neither did Juhani. Mission, however, smiled wide at the idea.

Carth, for once, was the first to speak up. “Normally, I would agree with that... _ plan _ , but the ‘hunters’ aren’t hunting for high caliber bounties. They go after wraids for their plates and beasts that bother moisture farmers. From what I hear, it pays diddly squat.”

“I mean, would it hurt to at least check the listing to see?” I asked. “There could be a high profile criminal on this world going for a few thousand at least.”

Bastila sighed. “We are not going to hunt for  _ people _ . But I suppose if we all chipped in, we could hunt for plates. At least enough to get the starting bid of 5,000 credits.”

_ 5,000 _ credits? Hoh boy.

“Yeah, that’s gonna be next to impossible, sunshine.” I stared at the credit pile once more. “Hey, isn’t your father a hunter? Maybe he could help us out since you’re related and all. He could tell us the best places to hunt, what creatures pull the best prices...that sort of thing. And you’ll also have a happy reunion.”

Bastila became cold in the bond the instant I mentioned her father. “I...can’t believe you  _ remembered _ that detail. But, yes, when I last saw him he worked as a hunter. And I guess he would be able to give us advice...”

I waved a hand. “See? It all works out in the end.”

In the bond, I could feel her trying to suppress her emotions. Key word being "try." I smirked at her and she shot me a look back—obviously not liking that I knew she was eager to see her father again.

* * *

Early the next day, we once again marched through the streets of Anchorhead. The dark corners of the markets bustled with the sound of illegal duels, bets, and gang fights. Bastila, Juhani, and myself weaved through the crowd while Mission skipped ahead of us towards the tallest adobe building in this sector of the city.

“Come on, slowpokes!”

We rushed after the Twi’lek towards the Czerka hunting lodge.

Inside, the cold air took me off guard along with the continued bustle within. More of those hunters crowded around screens hanging from the walls—a few pulled carts to the Czerka representatives minding a storage container. Some of the hunters shoved me aside as we strode into the building.

I spoke back at the ladies. “So, this is where you got the hunting license?”

Bastila nodded. “We should be able to look up a record of my father. They’ll know where he is now. If he’s not here at the moment...”

“Right, if there is one thing Czerka is good at, it’s keeping records,” I said.

Mission bent over one of the tables in the room. A few of the hunters were playing a round of pazaak as they waited for the bounty boards to clear.

“So…” I glanced Bastila’s way. “While you look for your father, Juhani and I will see what they have to offer at the bounty boards.”

Bastila frowned. “You mean...by myself?”

A twitch of fear flowed through the bond.

I tilted my head. “I...don’t you want some privacy? We’ll just get in the way.”

“I suppose…”

I patted her shoulder. “Look, everything will be fine, Bas. No need to worry. We’ll be right over there if you need us.”

With a final pat, I shoved through the crowd towards the boards. Yes, that had been one reason I left her. Another was I didn’t want her to notice who, exactly, I was looking for.

Juhani trailed behind me and Mission sat with the hunters at the pazaak table. The Cathar, ever silent, watched me with those yellow eyes. She didn’t say anything as I waved through the listings, past anything that was recent…

With a press, I stopped the scrolling.

It was there in fine print.  _ High risk. Target: a small boy named Liam. The boy cannot speak Basic. Last seen on Manaan. Offering 20,000 credits for his safe return.  _ Below that was a picture of Liam. And next to that...the symbol of the Exchange. I squinted. For some reason, the Exchange had put a bounty on a child. Why? Certainly, it explained why Brejik had him—probably was going to pass him along to Davik to pay for his “debts.”

But why would the Exchange want someone like that while also marking it  _ high risk _ ?

Fortunately, the bounty had been marked as delivered but not processed. Which meant Liam was here, somewhere, yet hadn’t been taken off world.  _ Probably because Davik...well... _

“Gale?” Juhani’s voice broke through my racing thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that one bounty for a while.”

“We need to find this boy.”

“But it’s been—”

“I know who he is.” I met Juhani’s gaze. “Czerka wants to give him to the Exchange. There is no way I’m going to let that happen.”

“The Exchange?” This caused the Jedi to tense. “I see...well then, we’ll just have to investigate, won’t we?”

A smirk graced my face. It was a rare day the Cathar listened to me.  “They must be holding Liam at the Czerka headquarters here. That’s where they would keep all their credits. All we’d have to do is—”

However, before I continued with my plan, a cold, dark sensation crawled up my spine. 

_ Bastila _ . 

Something was wrong. 

I didn’t give Juhani another look before I shoved the hunters out of the way.  _ Not again _ … I almost knocked over the pazaak tables as I rushed towards the Czerka reps. Fortunately, I spotted Bastila right away, however, there were no red lightsabers. No cold Sith assassins. Because the cold was coming from  _ her _ .

Her shoulders were tight—she gripped the datapad in her shaking hands. I was almost afraid that she was going to break it in two. The Czerka employee she stood in front of was sweating pools from both the heat and the Jedi before him.

I sent a warm sensation through the bond and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Bondy? You alright—?”

She threw the datapad onto the desk with a clatter. I would have flinched with the employee if I hadn’t already sensed her suppressed...grief.  Before I could comfort her...or do anything to help, Bastila pushed my chest and stormed through the crowds and out into the dangerous market streets. Juhani, not knowing what happened, rushed after her while Mission met my gaze from the pazaak tables.

The datapad still glowed. I picked up the offending object and read the words that caused the stalwart Jedi to run.

_ Shan: Terminated License; Deceased. _

I dropped the datapad on the desk then glared at the Czerka employee. 

“Deceased? What does that mean?”

The employee sneered. “It means what it means.”

“But...it’s a mistake, right?”

“Czerka doesn’t mark anyone dead ‘by mistake.’ Now...are we done—?”

I banged a fist on the desk.

“What about Ms. Shan?”

“Look, spacer, we don’t keep a record of our employee’s spouses. You can look up the ID of his old apartment though and find her yourself.”

I glanced down at Mr. Shan’s records. What the Czerka employee said was true, the location of his old apartment had been noted along with other useless facts about the man. Except for one fact—despite him saying they didn’t keep a record of spouses, a “Helena Shan” was included in those records. Her license had also been terminated yet instead of  _ Deceased _ it read  _ Retired _ .

_ Then at least she had someone...right? _

I rushed through the crowd after Bastila. Mission joined me with a serious look on her face.

“What happened? Are the Sith…?”

I responded with a quick shake of my head.

Outside, we found both of the Jedi beneath the building’s awning. Bastila sat cross legged on a mat in deep meditation while Juhani stood over her with confusion written on her features. In the bond, that familiar numb sensation returned. And in the void, a whisper echoed over and over again. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

I met the Cathar and Mission’s gaze before I kneeled before the meditating Jedi.

“Bastila?” She didn’t say anything and I didn’t dare touch her while she was in this...trance. I sighed. “I saw...on the datapad. Your father—”

“This was a mistake.” She opened her gray eyes. They were emotionless. Cool. As if she had seen a stranger’s name marked dead instead of her father’s. “I see that now.” Bastila stood and didn’t look me in the face as she marched off. “I am...a detriment to the mission at this time. Just...get as many credits as you can. I will return to the Ebon Hawk for now.”

I stood as well and made to go after her. “But—”

“For once in your life—just once— _ do what you’re told _ .” Her back tightened again. “Comm if you need me.”

And, for once, I listened as she stormed through the marketplace back towards the spaceport alone. And even though her walk was controlled,  _ perfect _ , a storm of emotions ruled the bond between us.

* * *

Sweat beaded down my brow. The Tatooine desert disappeared into the horizon and the only thing in the haze was the city of Anchorhead. I pulled my lightsaber out of the body of wraid number...I wasn’t counting. Juhani kicked the large mass of her quarry from her killing blow. It fell with a thud into the soft sands.

The Cathar waved at her wraid. 

“You wanna do the honors?”

I grimaced. “Honestly? No.”

But like all the others, I carved a cross section of the plate sitting on top of its skull. And it was a  _ slow _ process due to the toughness of the creature’s hide. After a ten minutes of sawing, the wraid’s plate detached itself from its fat head. 

_ One more... _

The sound of a speeder echoed from below the dune. Mission—who insisted that she knew how to drive—stopped the vehicle an  _ inch _ before it collided into me. And it probably would have hit me if I didn’t sense the oncoming blow.

“Watch it!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Mission jumped from the speeder and inspected the wraid plate. She held a datapad with all of the records provided by Czerka. “Hmm...I think this one is…”

Juhani peered closer. “Yes?”

“Fifty.”

I stopped myself from throwing my lightsaber into the sand.

“ _ Fifty _ ?”

“Hey! I’m not lying. This guy’s small fry.”

“Small fry?” Juhani hissed. “These are the biggest ones we’ve seen out here.”

I gritted my teeth before stabbing my lightsaber into the wraid corpse. Based on the position of the suns, we’d been going at this...all day. The Czerka cargo container we hauled behind the speeder was half filled with those plates. However, even if we spent all day and night filling it, the wraid plates we were getting barely make the cut.

Using the Force, I flipped the steaming plate into the cargo container with a clang. 

“How many does that make?”

Mission rubbed her chin. “Sixty maybe?”

I took my lightsaber then kicked the corpse of the wraid. That action only bruised my toes and my ego.

“This is next to impossible.” In the distance, many dark speeders raced across the desert, kicking up sand. More hunters. Most of them worked in twenty-man teams. “Especially when we have...unfriendly competition.”

Juhani watched the speeders racing through the desert as well. 

“What are you thinking, Gale?”

I rubbed my forehead of sweat with my loose sleeve. “I’m thinking that I want a drink.”

“No—I mean—do you have a plan?”

I sighed. “Why does everyone seem to think that I have a plan?”

“Probably because you always seem to have one?” Mission said.

But...those plans usually went wrong. I had to wonder why people still trusted me at this point. Instead of arguing with the Twi’lek, however, I rubbed my chin and watched the sifting sands beneath my boots. Then, I glanced up again and narrowed my eyes at the other hunter’s containers. Most were filled to the brim—so if we wanted to....swap they would realize what we had done immediately. 

The wraid corpse I’d finished chopping up had begun to collect flies.

“Hmm.” I rubbed the back of my head with a grin. “Well, maybe I do.”

* * *

The twin suns had begun to sink below the horizon. 

Our container, which had been half-full previously, was now almost spilling out into the sands. I drove the speeder past the train of hunters and most if not all of them gawked at me as we flew past. All of their containers had the same Czerka insignia painted on the side.  _ Perfect _ . A smirk carved on my face as I glanced back at Mission and Juhani. The blue Twi’lek chuckled while the Cathar shook her head.

“Hopefully this works, Gale.”

“Don't worry.” I winked. “My plans never fail.”

I spotted one of the marginally full containers—one that was “less full” than ours. The Gamorrean snorted as we backed our goods besides his own. I called down to the pig.

“Hello, fellow hunter! Mind if you watch this for a bit? Need to collect the other from the boss-man.” I made sure to glare menacingly at him. “If you lay a hand on any of the goods...you’ll have him to answer to.”

The Gamorrean huffed—spittle flew from his mouth. “Whatever.”

I detached the container with a flick of a lever then drove off into the dunes once more. Mission kicked the back of my seat as she laughed her head tails off.

“Bwhaha, that pig’s never gonna see it coming!"

I parked the speeder behind one of the dunes, making sure we were out of view from the Czerka loading station. We couldn’t wait too long or the pig would get bored and abandon our container, but we had to wait so that more loaded up next to the one we left. 

While we waited, Mission cleared her throat. 

“So, what happened to Bastila back there?”

I gripped the steering wheel and glanced up at the teen through the rear view mirror. 

“It’s...not my place to say.”

“Why? Cause there’s no way she’ll say anything about it to us after she just...stormed off like that.”

Juhani crossed her arms but otherwise made no comment. She hadn’t probed about what happened to Bastila, but—of  _ course _ —it was because she was a Jedi. Mission, on the other hand, actually seemed to care about feelings and emotions. So, I couldn’t just leave her in the dark.

“Her father…passed.”

This caused the Twi’lek to gasp. 

“Oh, I see…” Mission sighed. “Sorry I…”

“Don’t apologize.”

Fortunately, I was able to leave it there. We had waited long enough. I started the engine again and drove back to the loading station.

The Gamorrean was still there. Only now more of his containers surrounded the one I “planted.”  _ Perfect _ . I stopped the speeder then pretended to search before I addressed the Gamorrean I’d spoken to before.

“Err...this is a little embarrassing…”

He snorted. “Speak up, human.”

“What container is mine?”

And this was why I’d picked a Gamorrean. Because I knew the pig’s greed wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to scam a “stupid” human. And it would be because of his idiocy that he wouldn’t realize that we had been the one to pull off the scam.

The pig pointed at his own container with an eruption of snorts that would be laughter to the Gamorrean ear.  I nodded and backed up into his container in order to attach it to the speeder. Without another word to the pig, I drove away with our new haul filled to the brim with pristine wraid plates—ones that would for sure fetch a better price than the ones we’d left behind.

Juhani leaned close to me as we drove towards the Czerka garages. “So...what will happen when they discover we filled that thing with wraid corpses? What if they try to take back what we  _ stole _ ?”

“We’ll be long gone by then,” I said.

“Is...I’m not sure if the Masters would approve.”

“Even if it was for the greater good?” I snorted. “Of course they wouldn’t ‘approve.’”

“Wes...saying things like that...it’s reckless.”

I smirked at the young Jedi. “I told you, Juhani. I’m a bad influence.”

“Right.” She sighed. “I’m starting to believe that now…”

* * *

10,000 credits. That had been the result of our first day of “wraid plate” hunting. We’d lucked out—or the Force had been with us. Each plate went for around 100 and despite having to deal with Czerka taking a cut, we were sitting pretty now credit wise.

Carth could not believe it when I showed him the credit slip. Mission hummed with suppressed joy while Juhani sighed once more—if the Cathar sighed again, I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned into a Master herself.

The pilot glared at me. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” I raised my hands. “Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because there is no way you could have gotten this many credits hunting  _ wraids _ .”

“What if we just got lucky?”

Carth did not look convinced. However, instead of him insisting on getting answers like usual, he flung the credit slip into my face. 

“Fine. But if we get into any trouble,  _ you’ll _ be the one who has to deal with it.”

I took the slip with a salute. “Ay, ay, cap’n.”

Now, we had a day to waste before the auction. Then, once we had the droid, we could  _ finally _ get the Star Map, rescue Liam, and leave this terrible...terrible planet. I marched into the main hold while pocketing the credits. 

Then, that numb sensation returned in the bond. It was coming from the east dorms—she was probably meditating her emotions away in there…

I grabbed something quick to eat in the kitchen and sat with it in the main hold. It wasn’t so that I could catch her once she left the dorms. No, of course not. I just like sitting there. Bastila Shan didn’t  _ need _ my help. There is no emotion, there is peace and all. Yet, still, a bitter taste interrupted the enjoyment of my lovely soup.

A hiss. I flinched and glanced up at the noise. 

Bastila stood in the door frame, completely unfazed, and emotionless. She walked with her head held high towards the kitchens. Somehow, she didn’t meet my gaze despite passing me. I stared down at my half-eaten bowl of soup.

Of course I followed her.

The Jedi had synthesized some boring crap—rice and some kind of egg in a bowl. She sat, alone, in the canteen. Methodically, like a droid, she dipped a spoon into that mush and stared off into the ethers of the ship.

Without asking to be invited, I collapsed into the chair in front of her. She tried to hide a glare, but I felt annoyance anyway. Good. Any emotion was better than that empty...void. Normally, I would have gone on about how she missed out on my hijinks and mishaps. Gone into detail about how we scammed a Gamorrean out of 10,000 credits. She probably would have shouted at me for it too. But...there were better times for jokes. And for Bastila, now, with her father dead—she didn’t need an asshole.

Once she realized I wasn’t going to say anything—for once—Bastila resumed her stare down with her meal. Returning to her own little world. I finished my own soup in silence while watching her occasionally bite at her rice.

She hadn’t shed a tear. Not one since realizing her father had passed. Because there is no emotion, there is peace. Yet, was there peace? There couldn’t truly be  _ peace _ when she denied herself emotions like that.  _ Human _ emotions.

When she finished, I picked up her bowl before she did. I could tell she was going to protest, but I ignored her as I threw the bowls into the sink and began to rinse away the gunk.  As I washed, the bond grew numb. So numb. It felt like torture. I had to do something. Say something.

"Helena is the name of your mother, right?"

I had to make sure. For all I knew, her father could have remarried. Unfortunately, she didn’t answer me. However, the numbness broke apart with a flicker of astonishment. As if she was shocked that I’d known that information.

The gunk swirled around down the drain and I set aside the bowls.  _ There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge...  _ Her thoughts continued on like this over and over.

And I couldn't take it anymore.

Before she could sense anything unusual, I rushed over and grabbed her wrist, tugging her to her feet. She yelped and pulled back as I dragged her into the garage. However, I held her tight—hopefully not too tight but she was making this difficult.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!"

There was a slight tingle of a Force wave, but I had expected it so I brushed it off. I punched the button to open the ramp and the cold afternoon hit me—the binary suns still setting. Warm lights of the spaceport flickered on as the light of day disappeared.  Bastila squirmed, but I didn't let go. If I let go, then this  _ torture  _ would continue. I stomped down the ramp as it lowered—still somehow dragging the Jedi with me. Meanwhile, Bastila continued to focus a nasty Force attack into my back.

When my feet touched the concrete, I couldn't defend myself any longer. I was forced to release her and was flung to the hard ground. Before she could run back into the ship, I focused my attention onto the Ebon Hawk. Concentrating, I twisted my hands, bending the Force to lift the ramp closed.

She tried to use the Force on it back, but it was too late. The seams hissed together. The ramp had shut.

Both of us fell silent

I picked myself up, wincing at the few bruises I more than likely deserved. Bastila’s face looked blustered in the dim lights.

She held up a comm.

"Carth!"

_ Kriff. _

I snatched the device from her.

"Give that back you nerf herder!" she shouted, jumping for the comm.

Fortunately, I was able to pull my arm up fast enough so that she couldn’t reach. Unfortunately, that also put me off balance. So, when she collided with me, we collapsed together in a heap. Her sharp elbows knocked the air from my lungs and the comm clattered out of my hand.

She reached above my head and stole the comm back with the Force. However, before she could escape, I grabbed her right wrist, smiling a victory. That victory, however, didn't last when her left palm smashed into my face. I flinched as her fingers came a bit too close to stabbing my eyes out.

" _ Kriff _ —are you trying to blind me?"

She ignored my shouting but instead of poking my eyes she covered them. I tried to peel her hand away from my face with the Force, however, she didn't budge.

"Let go!" she shouted.

"Why the hell should I?"

"Because I ordered you to!"

"What authority do you have over me anyway?"

"As the appointed leader of this mission, I order you to release me!"

"Oh yeah? What'll you do if I don't?"

The comm hissed above me. " _ Erm _ ...what are you two doing?"

Both of us paused in our struggles. It was then that I realized how close we were to each other. If her presence in the Force hadn't already overpowered everything around her, it did now. Her hot breath tickled my forehead, her legs straddled me to the ground, her soft hand on my face, the sound of a strong yet delicate heart somehow louder than the rumbling of the Ebon Hawk.

I slowly smirked. "Well, if you wanted to be on top, you could've just asked."

Those words did more to make her drop the comm than any Force wave as she danced off of me in disgust. Ah ha! Success. Finally able to see, I sat up and grabbed the comm with a sigh.

"We're fine, Carth," I said. "I'm just taking Bastila to a family reunion—"

The comm was snatched from my hand.

"Open the ramp," Bastila ordered. "Don't listen to this perverted Hutt slug."

" _ Perverted Hutt slug _ ?" I shouted. " _ You're _ the one who pounced  _ me _ ."

If I looked hard enough within the dim lights, I could swear I saw the beginnings of red coloring her cheeks.

The comm flicked on again. "Look, can both of you come to some sort of agreement? I'm not manning the ramp all evening."

I had to be quick, so I shot to my feet.

"You won't have another chance to talk to her about him, you know."

She gripped the comm tight in her raised fist, so much so that I thought she was going to break the device. Finally, she twisted around to face me, gray eyes fierce.

"Why do you  _ care _ ?" She stabbed her finger multiple times into my chest. "You— _ Wesley Gale _ —the most egotistical, vile, selfish man I have ever met should be the last person  _ to  _ care.”

A part of me winced at those harsh words. But...instead of shouting denials, I smiled with a raised brow. She was baiting me. I wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I already told you, sunshine. You'll have to deal with the way that I am.”

She opened her mouth once then twice before growling. “We will not visit my mother. My decision is final."

"Oh really? And how did you reach that conclusion?"

"Because, as a Jedi—"

"Stop making that idiotic excuse." When she flinched, I gazed up into the setting suns. "What is the real reason you refuse to see your mother? It’s not because attachments are bad or anything like that. It’s because you’re afraid." She remained silent, still simmering from my words. “Someone told me once that I needed to face my fears. So, then, why are you running from yours?"

Her face had become stone—her eyes glazed. Instead of that numb sensation within the bond, there was a tidal wave of emotion so intense that I didn’t even know what I felt anymore.

Eventually, she snapped out of it. But, instead of rushing for the comm again, she turned and staggered to one of the benches at the side of the spaceport. She collapsed onto the bench and held her forehead. I followed her lead and sat beside her. And, for the next few minutes, we stared out at the quiet chaos of the mechanic droids and shuttles. 

When the binary suns finally set, I interrupted the quiet.

"There was once a smuggler—a Duros with a name that no one remembers.”

She finally stopped hiding her face from me as she sat up. Giving me that familiar exacerbated look.

“One day, he was invited to this huge smuggling run that guaranteed riches beyond his imagination. However, his crew convinced him that they were more likely to either be locked up for good or die in a skirmish on the way there. Very high risk."

Bastila didn't respond as I continued my inane rambling.

"Turns out that the survivors of that run became millionaires. So, the poor, poor Duros wondered, 'What if  _ I  _ had gone on that run? Would  _ I _ be a millionaire? Or was my crew correct? Would we have died without a credit to our name.' And guess what? He wondered and wondered for the rest of his pathetic life as his pockets grew emptier and emptier."

She looked up into my eyes. “Where are you going with this?”

I smiled thinly, placing my hands in my pockets. "I had a...mentor who was like a mother to me. Would always tell me those kind of stories without prompt like that. Told me I had to 'think for myself' whenever I asked her what it meant. Most of the time it was just...annoying." I chuckled. Foggy memories of my time under her wing flashed though my mind. It had been...a long time since I'd thought about it. "Eventually, she died on a run. Very high risk but...she would have regretted not doing it for the rest of her life. After that, I swore that if I ever regretted not doing something, I sure as hell would do it."

Bastila raised an eyebrow, however, she remained strangely silent after I said those words—as if she was  _ actually _ considering them.

"...of course."

I tilted my head. "Hmm?"

"Nothing." She stood, her stance more confident than it was before. "I admit, this has become a bit of a...distraction." I stood with her and before I celebrated, she raised a hand. "But we leave when I say we leave. You will not force me to stay."

I nodded. "Of course. We'll stay as long as you feel comfortable."

With that, Bastila strode forward, leading me as if meeting her mother had been her idea all along.

* * *

Helena lived close to the back alley slums, so walking there without getting mugged by gangsters had been a pain. Fortunately, after fifteen minutes, we arrived at the humid apartment block. After climbing the steps to floor three, we found the Shan residence. Broken beer and ale bottles lined the wall and I sneered at the smell of that speeder fuel. The Jedi hesitated before knocking on the door. Yet Helena hadn’t emerged. Surely she would be home at this time? Had she...passed out drunk?

Before we both gave up to try during the day, a Twi’lek woman called to us from down the hall.

“You looking for Helena?”

I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. “Why? Do you know where she is?”

“Do I know where she is? Probably making a racket at the cantina down the street.” The Twi’lek snorted. “If you run into the old bag, can you tell her to actually pay her rent on time for once?”

The landlord passed us once more towards the steps leading outside. Through the bond, I could feel Bastila’s urge to run away again. So, I took the Jedi by the shoulders and led her out of there.

“No second thoughts now.”

She glared up at me. “I wasn’t  _ going _ to—”

“And I’m the Grand Master.”

It took Bastila and I longer than necessary to even find the street, and even longer to figure out that the only cantina nearby was on the second floor of a pawn shop. The place was ironically named “The Light Side.” 

We both entered the establishment—cigar smoke and strong alcohol flooded our senses. There were less people then the first cantina we visited on the planet. This one obviously was a local dive. I glanced around at the sparse amount of aliens and humans before meeting Bastila's hesitant gaze. I pushed her forward with a smile.

Huffing, she stomped towards the bar. There, an older woman sat—staring into her drink—ignorant to the Jedi that stopped behind her. I hovered behind Bastila, enough so that I wouldn't intrude on their conversation.

It took the older woman a moment to realize that Bastila was there. When she did, the woman placed her glass down and eyed the Jedi suspiciously.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"It’s me, mother. Or do you not recognize your own daughter?"

The older woman, Helena, sat back and gave Bastila her full attention. Wrinkles of both age and stress lined the woman’s face and her eyes were an exact replica of Bastila’s.

"What do you expect?” Helena didn’t look into her daughter’s face. “I haven't seen you since you left. I've been trying to contact you."

"You knew as well as I that communication would be impossible after I joined the Order."

"I know.” Helena took a drink from her glass. “But I had to try."

"Why? Because you wanted to tell me that father is  _ dead _ ?” Anger flared from within the bond. "What happened? What did you do to him?"

My hand gripped her shoulder to hold her back even though she hadn't moved to do anything. She tightened beneath my touch, but for once she didn't shake me away.

Her mother twisted to her right in order to address me. "Isn't this a lovely reunion? Already she's flinging insults at me. Do you treat your mother this way?"

_ Burning fields. Destruction. Mandalorians.  _

"My mother's been long dead, if you must know," I replied, face stiff.

She frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. I guess I will be joining her soon."

_ Joining her? _

Bastila shoved my hand away from her shoulder. "Father’s friend told me you were sick. Are you really dying or is this merely melodrama for my benefit?"

"Such sweet things you say." Helena sat back, putting down her glass. "Sit and I'll tell you everything. Hopefully before you start flinging insults again."

I sat, taking the chair farthest from Helena, forcing Bastila to sit between us. She glared at me before she returned that anger to Helena. "You could start by telling me what you got father into that killed him," she said, crossing her arms.

"I hadn't realized Jedi were so spiteful." Her mother sighed. "You never accepted that your father loved going on his hunts, leaving you alone with me. I was always to blame for everything. What else is new?"

I leaned in close. "You're being a bit unfair, you know.”

" _ Unfair _ ?"

However, before Bastila could shout at me further, her mother continued. "But fine, yes. I took your father to Tatooine to look for krayt dragon pearls. He took an expedition a year ago and died."

Another krayt dragon. Always the damn krayt dragons.

Bastila leaned forward. "How do you know that? Father is an experienced—"

"Do you think I would have tried finding you if I didn't know for sure? He went with an entire group of hunters and found a krayt dragon in a cave. One of them fled the battle. He only lived long enough to tell us...what happened."

The Jedi drooped, the small amount of hope I sensed within her faded. Before I tried to comfort her, a fever-like anger returned in the bond.

"Why were you trying to contact me? What do you want? Credits?"

Helena's shoulders dropped. "Is it too much to ask to fulfill your dying mother's wish? I want you to go find him. I want your father's holocron."

That's when Bastila stood. I flinched at her anger.

"I'm not father,  _ mother _ . If you want something done, do it your bloody self."

I shot up from the bar.

"Bastila—"

But, before my words even left my mouth, she already stomped out of the cantina. Below, Helena grasped her drink in a hand and drained the contents. I glared down at the woman. 

"Why can't you get this holocron yourself, Ms..."

"No need for that. Call me Helena." She lowered her glass then crossed her arms as if cold. "And I can't afford another expedition. Not since my husband's death."

"And you think Bastila can defeat a  _ krayt dragon _ by herself?"

She shrugged. "She's a Jedi, isn't she? And she has you...you are also a Jedi, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then is there a problem?"

I pursed my lips, feeling both my and Bastila's anger melding together towards this woman.

"Of course there's a problem! Didn't your husband die in the first place  _ because _ you suggested this planet? Because you sent him off after a krayt dragon of all things?"

Helena huffed, staring down and away from me at the table—acting guilty?

"You're right I...I was a terrible mother to her and a terrible wife to my husband. I never wanted to have a child. Even so, I had Bastila. It was never fair of me to punish her for my mistakes. And now I'm being selfish yet again." My gaze softened as she stared up at me, familiar gray eyes drooping. "I don't expect you...you...what was your name?"

"Wes Gale."

"Yes, Mr. Gale. You can tell Bastila that she doesn't have to do this for me. Just seeing her, one last time, is enough."

After that, Helena called over the waiter droid and snapped at it for another drink. The cold air hit like a wall when I exited the humid cantina, the stars above many. Tatooine's two moons hung high above in the sky. From the second floor of the building, I glanced around, trying to find Bastila. However, this time I listened to our bond as soon as she disappeared from sight. I sensed her somewhere near the street a few meters away. Spotting a shadow sitting on a bench, I ducked under an overhang as I climbed down the stairs.

Her eyes were closed as she tried to calm herself through mediation or through the code. I slid beside her on the bench while gazing up at the Tatooine stars.

"So, are you going to get the holocron or...?"

After a moment of her meditation, she sighed. "If I ever tried finding my father's holocron...it wouldn't be for  _ her _ ."

Well, that sounded rather  _ unlike _ her. After a minute of silence, I leaned on my knees.

"Why did you run away?"

She opened her eyes, a calm finally returning to them.  "You promised that I could leave whenever I felt uncomfortable."

"You weren't uncomfortable. Just angry."

"I wasn't  _ supposed _ to be angry." She grasped the bench. "I lost myself in there. Any longer and I would have—"

"Fallen to the dark side?"

But instead of answering me with a snappy "yes" or rolled eyes, she sighed. "I'd like to think that I'd never fall to the dark side. Anyone would like to think that. But...the truth is  _ anyone _ can fall. Juhani, the Masters, me... _ you _ ."

I laughed once. "Why do you keep saying that? It's a rather depressing way to view the Force. And, really, you shouldn't be worrying so much. You're too good of a person to fall."

She pulled a hand through her hair. "It's not enough to  _ be _ a good person," she said. " _ All  _ emotions are dangerous. I've told you this over and over and  _ still _ you don't understand. Attachments—"

"And being frustrated about it isn’t dangerous?" When she froze, mouth hanging open, I continued. "I might be just some naïve Padawan, but which emotion is  _ worse  _ to have about your mother? Anger? Hate? Fear? Or forgiveness? Acceptance? Even love? Because I know the answer."

Her mouth opened and closed once then twice before she drooped, holding her head as she leaned forward. A wave of doubt passed her mind, doubt about leaving her mother, doubt about how she reacted.

Finally, after another minute passed, she stood. 

"There is no emotion, there is peace.” 

And with those terse words, she stormed away into the night.


	22. Tatooine: HK-47

Nineteen. Stand. Eighteen. Hit. Twenty-one. _Pazaak_.

Bastila hid herself in the dorm rooms. Meditating again—though she would never admit that it was actually moping. She didn’t come out of meditation unless she had to make a run to the fresher or to grab lunch. Acted as if I didn’t exist or was a stranger. And I happily returned the favor.

The auction was tomorrow. We could have gone out to get more wraid plates, but Juhani was paranoid we’d run into that Gamorrean. So, I wasted time in the main hold playing a pazaak game on my lonesome. Mission had disappeared with Zaalbar to the spaceport repair shop, Juhani was training or meditating, Carth—well Carth wasn’t one for conversation, and Canderous...

Actually, _where was Canderous?_

I threw a blue three card down for my imaginary opponent. Twenty. Stand. _Pazaak_. I’d lost against me again. Figures. I groaned as the feelings of boredom began to override my common sense. Carth was better for conversation than my own thoughts, right?

The bridge beeped and buzzed with the normal relaxing tunes. The pilot snored away in his chair, dreaming of conspiracies and plots and wars, as I approached with a stomp. Without waiting for him to notice my presence, I spun his chair with my foot. Carth shot awake and pointed his pistol at me. I chuckled nervously at the man’s intensity as I raised my hands.

Carth holstered his weapon with a groan. 

“What the hell do you want?”

“I’m bored.”

He glared at me. “How is that my problem?”

“Well, I figured I’d rather be productive.” I crossed my arms with a smile. “Let’s go investigate this droid before we throw thousands of credits away on it.”

Carth narrowed his eyes. “Weren’t you the one who said I needed to stay here in case the Sith showed up?”

“So, you were definitely _not_ asleep at the wheel right there?” Before Carth could snap back, I waved a hand. “That and it’s been days since those assassins attacked. If they really wanted Bastila that badly, the Sith would have already showed up with the entire fleet. Instead they’re sending their little minions after us. Malak’s busy, you know, with the Republic and with being an ass.” 

The pilot gave me that tired look before he stood. His back popped as he stretched. “I’m only going to make sure you don’t get into any more trouble. Which is impossible, come to think of it.”

I patted his shoulder with a smirk. “Then it’ll be like old times, Orangy.”

Without waiting for him to change his mind, I twisted around and led him out of the Ebon Hawk into the blistering heat of Tatooine. 

We traveled through the streets in silence. Carth still looked half-asleep from his nap while I watched the crowds both for possible gangsters or assassins. When we crossed the street, Carth finally spoke over the bustle of the Anchorhead sandstone jungle.

“Why did you drag me out here with you anyway?”

I shrugged. “Why not? Thought you needed to stretch your legs. And I already told you. I’m bored.”

“Hmm, Bastila still not talking to you after what happened?”

I glowered at him. “After _what_ happened?”

“Well, I thought you were killing each other or something from what I heard over the comms last night. You also said something about a...family reunion?”

“Oh, right. That.” I avoided stepping in rondo shit before addressing him again. “That was just Bastila being Bastila. Her mother is in town and, well, she’s being stubborn about it. Because ‘Jedi’ and ‘emotions’ and ‘dark side.’” I sighed as I thought back to last night’s argument. “I swear, that woman is going to drive me insane.”

“Well, she certainly can’t do that when you’re already insane.”

An ill-humored smirk climbed onto my face.

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

When we turned the corner, I spotted the large Czerka building in the distance. We made for it all the while I was tempted to kick a rock or something. I needed to vent my frustrations before I took it out on my poor foot. Even if it was to Carth of all people. 

“Imagine being mentally connected to an overbearing, puritanical woman who insists that ‘there is no emotion’ every time you make a joke or just...act human. You’d go insane too.”

Carth chuckled while rubbing the back of his head. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty hard to imagine—” 

“Don’t even get me started about her being a massive hypocrite. Oh, there is no emotion, huh? Kind of hard to believe when she’s yelling at me over the slightest—”

“But you’re not doing yourself any favors by picking fights with her all the time,” Carth interrupted. 

“Oh, so you think that I start it?” I clicked my tongue. “Of course. _I’m_ the one with the problem. That’s what she wants you and everyone else to believe.”

“ _So_ , did you bring me out here to rant about Bastila?”

“What? Of course not!” I glared at him. “You’re the one who brought her up!”

Carth sighed as he rubbed his forehead. “Believe me, Wes, sometimes it’s better to just drop it and let her win. Otherwise she _will_ drive you absolutely…crazy.”

With that line, Carth trailed off and stared off into the sky as if remembering something nostalgic or...sentimental. I narrowed my eyes at the pilot, and before I could ask him to _clarify_ that point, we finally arrived at our destination. 

“So…” Carth narrowed his eyes. “This is Czerka Headquarters. Aren’t the droids being stored at the warehouse?”

I ignored him as I marched into the building. 

So far, out of all the places we’d visited on this planet, Czerka Headquarters was the most pristine. Suspiciously pristine. Numerous cleaning droids made sure that any grains of sand that blew through the automatic doors were immediately sucked up.

I made for the front desk and Carth followed with a sigh. 

Numerous company reports scrolled along the screens on the walls with the current Republic stock figures—which were always at a rapid decline due to all the wars. The receptionists were walled off by a thick sheet of glass. Wouldn’t have been surprised if it was made of cortosis. The Duros receptionist narrowed his large eyes at me when I leaned casually on the marble of the rounded desk.

“How may I help you, spacer?” the Duros asked.

I drummed my fingers casually. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? I heard a contract has been fulfilled by your hunters and that the target has been delivered. I’m here to collect.”

The Duros frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Carth coughed next to my ear. I glanced over to him and he was giving me that suspicious look. He’d have to wait, unfortunately.

“Then maybe I should speak to someone who doesn’t have a memory problem.”

The Duros sighed. “Who do you work for and what contract did you put out?”

Finally. Talking to these corporate slimes was like pulling head tails.

“The Exchange. The contract is for the boy.”

The Duros looked to the side before he shook his head. “Have you been living under an asteroid? Davik was blasted on Taris along with the Exchange. Any contracts put out have been made null and void.” 

He began typing something at the computer module but I wasn’t going to leave it there. 

“Then why has this contract been marked fulfilled instead of terminated?”

The Duros stopped typing. “Client error. It happens.”

“So what’s the problem then? Release the boy.”

Finally, the receptionist met my gaze. “Who do you really work for, spacer? Because I know for a fact that it’s not the Exchange. If you really worked for the Exchange then you would know that the boy has already been collected.”

I froze. No. Not again.

“What do you mean? The Exchange put out the bounty. So then who took him?”

“Does it matter to you anymore?” The Czerka employee shrugged. “Move along.”

I leaned closer to the Duros over the desk. The Force stirred in the air near his round head.

“Tell me. _Who_.”

A power split the air. The Duros shivered as the Force persuasion took hold of his mind. It took more effort to bend the employee to my will though. Eventually...

“I-I don’t know! They were all in black. I’m not supposed to ask questions…”

Carth grabbed my shoulder. “Wes...what are you—?”

I shoved his hand away and pushed further with the Force.

“You’re lying.”

“No! I...I swear that’s all I know.”

_Kriff it all._

I released my hold on the Duros and pounded the desk. Carth stepped away before I stormed out of Czerka Headquarters. 

Outside, I stopped beside the building and stared down at my boots in thought. This whole thing with trying to find Liam felt like a Trandoshan comedy sketch. Which is to say it wasn’t funny but I was still being made out to be a joke. 

Carth finally emerged from the Czerka building. 

“What...was that? What did you do to that guy? And the Exchange? Bounty?”

I sighed. Why had I brought Carth along again? Oh, right, I thought all I’d have to do was scam the Duros, maybe use the Force a bit, and then we’d rescue the kid. And there would have been no problems. But _of course_ it was never that easy.

I peered to the side at the pilot. “Just another dead end with finding the kid. And me screwing up. Again.”

Carth sighed. “Look...it’s unfortunate that you lost him and all, but don’t you think this is getting to be a bit obsessive?”

“You’re one to talk about ‘obsessions,’ Mister Paranoid.”

“Oh, you’re really going to use that on me again, huh? Well, not falling for it this time.” Carth walked so that he stood by my side then crossed his arms as he observed the traffic. “Let me rephrase that question—are you trying to find that kid for his sake...or for yours?”

Heat filled my chest along with many different denials ranging from cursing to full on shouting. Yet, I was supposed to be a Padawan. A Jedi. There is no emotion, there is peace. What happened the last time I reacted on pure impulse? _Almost died to those Mandos...but I also rescued those kids._ So, instead of shouting, my shoulders sank. Because I knew I couldn’t answer Carth’s question. Not when I wasn’t sure about the answer. And, like a coward, I didn’t give him one.

I marched off towards the Czerka Warehouse. We had a droid to look at too, after all.

* * *

On the way to the warehouse, the comm hissed in my pocket.

“Where the _hell_ are you?”

Oh. Whoops. Forgot to tell Bastila what we were doing. Carth raised a brow at me while I dug my hand in my pockets with a grumble. I flipped the comm on as I walked off towards the warehouse with Carth in tow. 

“Ah, so we’re on speaking terms again?”

“Get back here. Now.”

“Have the Sith shown up?”

In the distance, there was a flicker of annoyance. The Talravin accent grew thick over the comm’s distortion as if she was trying to hold back from shouting.

“ _No_. But you left the ship. That and I sensed...intensity in the bond. I thought you got attacked again or worse.”

“Oh, so you were _concerned_ about me. Strange. Sounds like an emotion.”

The comm clicked. “Where’s Carth?”

“He’s with me.” 

“Give him the comm.”

I rolled my eyes and flung the comm in the general direction of the pilot who somehow caught it. Carth did not look happy about speaking to the Jedi either.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

Carth glanced over to me before responding. “Wes wanted to inspect the droid before the auction tomorrow. He forced me to come along.”

For some reason, the pilot left out our other travel destination. That was unlike him.

Bastila clicked her tongue. “Oh. Well then. Glad that Wes thought he could go without my input.”

I was tempted to snatch the comm out of Carth’s hands, but I held back for once. Instead, I made sure I didn’t get run over by speeders as we crossed the street.

“We didn’t leave you out on purpose, Bastila. And...do you really know that much about droids?”

The Jedi’s huff broke the comm’s mic. “Tell Wes that his emotions are getting out of control. He’s meditating as soon as he gets back to the ship.”

Oh, lovely, now I have something to look forward to.

The pilot sighed. “Look, I’m not getting into the middle of this. You can tell him that yourself.” He switched the comm off and faced me with lips peeled back as if he was in pain.

I waved a hand. “Now do you see what I’m dealing with here?”

Before he could answer, probably with some dumb quip, we’d finally arrived at our destination. 

The large Czerka warehouse echoed with the many voices of dock loaders and agents. Speeders hovered inside the opened garage doors towards the containers filled with an assortment of minerals. Large sandcrawlers were parked on the other side of the warehouse out to the open Tatooine desert. The crawlers accumulated with more of those dinky looking rocks—ready to be shipped out for weapon production. The reception area was more chaotic than the one in the Headquarters. Boxes stuffed with datapads were stacked to Carth’s height and bins filled with trashed tags littered the floor underneath.

The Czerka receptionist hadn’t even looked up from her datapad when I approached. Fortunately, when I mentioned I was there to inspect the droids being sold at the auction, I had her full attention. She waved to the curtained off area in the corner of the warehouse.

“Go see Yuka Laka at his workshop—he handles droid manufacturing.”

And so Carth and I weaved through the chaos of the warehouse towards the workshop. Past the curtained off area, droid parts and units littered shelves from expensive to cheap, large to small, foreign to familiar. Multiple units either broken or brand new were spaced out at the center of the room in various states of repair. The most obnoxious looking one was bright red, lithe, and dangerous. 

As we approached the workbenches, a shouting match erupted between an Ithorian and an Echani woman. A _familiar_ Echani woman. A double-bladed vibroblade was slung over her shoulder.

Oh. Not her again.

The Echani slammed a fist onto the worktable. 

"I don’t care if it’s being sold at an auction, hammerhead! Destroy it!"

The Ithorian shuddered. "I'm sorry, miss, but if you threaten to harm the merchandise again, I will call security."

"You don't understand what it is, do you?"

The Ithorian, who I guessed to be Yuka Laka, blubbered. "I’ve given you enough chances to leave!"

Cursing in Echani, the strange woman went for a pistol at her belt.

I strode forward. "Hey!"

The Echani froze and she twisted around. Releasing her hold on her blaster, she crossed her arms, eyebrows low on her face.

"You're that strange Jedi..."

She wasn't wearing that creepy mask of her's—probably because any Czerka official would have taken one look and thrown her out of there. A scar I hadn’t noticed before in the dim lights of the alleyway crossed her lower chin.

Carth arrived at my side. "You know her?" 

“Erm...not really...”

Before I could go into detail, the Echani woman stormed past us out of the mechanic’s wing. I raised a hand.

"Hey, wait a sec—"

However, she disappeared yet again without comment. Guess she was shy or something. Scratching my head, I approached the Czerka droid mechanic. Yuka Laka still trembled after his encounter with the dangerous Echani.

"I'm sorry about the racket. How can I help you?"

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Some bounty hunter—I don’t know.” The Ithorian shook his fishy head. “She was snooping around here eyeing that droid. I thought she was a customer..."

_A bounty hunter, huh?_

"And what droid, exactly, was she so interested in destroying?"

Yuka Laka raised a hand, pointing to the corner. "That droid over there. HK-47. She thought the damn thing was some bloodthirsty psychopath. But she’s obviously mistaken it for another model.” He blinked. “Are you interested? The droid will be sold at the auction tomorrow. It's a fine protocol translator—HK stands for Humane Keeper—or that’s what it told me at least. I think it's been modified from the base unit. It says that it understands the Sand People dialect and also has some armor mounts. For protection, perhaps?"

I glanced towards the dark corner. HK-47 was that obnoxious looking red one. Before I went over to investigate, its red lights blinked and its head swiveled.

"Query: Would you be so kind as to purchase this model from Yuka Laka? It would serve my purposes to be removed from his ownership."

Yuka Laka groaned, slapping a greasy cloth onto the workbench.

" _Now_ it's talking? I can't believe this. Stubborn droid." The Ithorian glared at HK-47. "It needs to sell itself better. I put it up for sale in the last auction but nobody was interested. Two moisture farmers wanted a demonstration yesterday, but it just stood there."

I crossed my arms. "You seem to be having a few problems with it..."

"Well, droids become...uncooperative when they go on for too long without a memory wipe."

"What if it becomes even more 'uncooperative' after we bid on it? We can’t have a crazy droid speaking to the Sand People. They’ll attack us for any given reason,” I said.

Yuka Laka was quick to reassure. "No, no, it might be eccentric, but it's completely obedient."

Well, there was only one way to find out if that was true.

I walked over to HK, its red eyes blinked once then twice as I inspected it. Armor built like the outside of a hammerhead-class warship, hands crafted to grip onto a blaster rifle, at least a head taller than I was. This HK was built for battle. Arduous battles. Carth frowned up at it—he obviously didn't like what he saw. After all, we had been expecting a normal protocol droid with some extra functions, not this lethal looking _thing_. 

“Humane Keeper”-47 blinked and his head swiveled to face me. "Greeting: Hello to you, prospective purchasers. I am referred to as HK-47, a fully functional Systech Corporation droid skilled in both combat and protocol functions."

"Systech?" I asked. "Never heard of it. What company is that?"

"Answer: With the restraining bolt Yuka Laka has installed, I do not have full access to my memory core. I suspect, however, that I am not only from Systech but of unique construction...or I was intended for a very specific customer."

I glanced towards Carth. So, the droid didn't know who built it? I suppose the only thing that mattered right now was that it understood Sand People...but we didn't want the thing blowing up in our faces.

“Well, what do you know about your functions?"

The droid blinked. "Answer: I am a fully capable translator and cultural analyst, and I'm also capable in...personal combat."

"Personal combat?" I asked. "So, you’re a battle droid too?"

"Disclosure: Yes...and no. While battle droids hold battlefields, I am capable of eliminating a very...specific type of target."

In the corner of my eye, Carth’s shoulders tightened.

I laughed nervously. "Um...you're beginning to sound a lot like an assassin droid.”

" _Assassin droid_? Reassurance: I am a law-abiding droid. Yes, indeed, law-abiding, that's me."

"That...didn't sound very 'reassuring.'"

"Request: Please do not speak so loudly, prospective bidder! Do you wish for my starting price to be doubled?"

I turned to Carth. "What do you think?" I asked.

"It seems a bit... _abnormal_."

I scratched my stubble. "Yeah, it’s a little strange that HK-47 here is the only droid on Tatooine that understands Sand People. I mean, no one else has thought to take HK’s data core and copy it onto a more suitable protocol unit?”

“That is _not_ what I meant by abnormal.”

"Interjection: Czerka, and by extension, Yuka Laka is the only droid manufacturer in Anchorhead, therefore, there is little in terms of ‘suitable’ protocol droids that could hold a copy of my data core. Elaboration: I doubt that the fool Ithorian has the capabilities to create a high tech droid such as myself."

I chuckled. "Does Yuka Laka know you talk about him like this behind his back?"

"Statement: I wish only to be purchased and away from ill-treatment at the hands of this poorly-skilled mechanic. I have no desire to be subtle."

"Well, if you treat all your masters that way, then why should I even bother with you?"

"Qualification: Er...of course I will be quite pleasant to _you_ , if you purchase me. Please?"

I sighed. “Well, you’re in luck, droid. I don’t think we have a choice.” 

We walked away from HK-47 in order to speak to Yuka Laka once more. The Ithorian had returned to repairing some T7 astromech units on that workbench. Carth’s face resembled the creased face of a kath hound.

I spoke to the mechanic again. “Are you sure that is the only droid that can understand Sand People?”

The Ithorian gave a guttural sigh. “There isn’t really a _demand_ to speak to the Sand People unless you need to tell them to get off your property. They usually shoot first and ask questions later.” He shrugged. “If you’re actually interested in that thing, I can lower the initial bid price. I won’t go lower than 2,000 credits. That’s how much it’s cost me with it just taking up space in the shop.”

I gave Carth a doubtful look that he returned. Were we fortunate that the Ithorian was willing to drop the price? Or was that a sign that we were being taken for a ride? 

* * *

Calm. Empty. Mind. No emotions.

We returned to the ship to a pissed off Bastila who immediately ordered for me to sit alone in the dorms to meditate. Normally, I would have been smart back, but guilt over what happened with the kid overruled my desire to be spiteful. Because, even though Bastila was overreacting, she was right. I’d once again proven to be the worst Jedi out there.

The doors hissed yet I didn’t stir from my meditation. Focus. Calm. There is no emotion.

“Whoa! Um, Wessy?”

Mission’s voice echoed in the meditation state. Light gradually pierced the ether of darkness. 

“Uh...it’s dinner time!”

My eyes opened. I drifted to the floor, softly for once, however bags, datapads, and other miscellaneous items clattered to the floor. I flinched at the chaos and rubbed the back of my head. The young Twi’lek was looking down at me as if I’d performed some miracle.

I sighed. “Whoops, sorry about that.”

“Sorry? That was amazing! I didn’t know you could do that!”

I stood with a frown and began to clean up the displaced items. “Right, but I’m supposed to ‘control my use of the Force while in meditation and not use it with wild abandonment,’” I said, repeating one of Master Zhar’s lines.

“Oh…” 

Mission rubbed the back of her head—probably missing the point. And, honestly, I didn’t blame her.

We arrived at the canteen and a hot meal was awaiting me. Nice of...whoever made that. I took it and Mission sat with me. Zaalbar had already begun to devour his meal. The rest of the crew either already had dinner or were busy with other things.

Mission threw me a smirk. “I heard you and Carth went to see the droid…” 

I took a few bites of food before I responded to Mission’s remark. 

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Can I be the droid’s master?”

I finished chewing before I replied. “No. You broke T3 that one time and I was the one who had to fix him, remember?”

“I’ll learn how to repair it, I promise. Actually, you could teach me!”

“Mission...a droid isn’t a pet gizka. You need to know how to maintain them otherwise they’ll go crazy on you.” I drank some water. “And this droid’s a little off already.”

“Off? What—it’s just a protocol droid, right?”

“Trust me, you probably want to start off with something more...passive.”

Fortunately, Mission didn’t argue further on that point. “Ok, but I still want to learn. Can you show me how to fix T3? I mean...I probably could alter his software or his memory core but I don’t know a thing about components.” 

“I don’t know...will T3 appreciate being a part of your experiments?”

Mission threw a lekku over her shoulder. “If I break something, you’ll be there to fix him, right?”

A smirk graced my face. “Alright. You’ve convinced me.” I waved a fork at the Twi’lek. “But if you do break something, I’m not going to fix him for you. I’ll walk you through it—that’s the best way to learn.”

Mission shot up from her seat. “Of course, Master Wes!”

I grimaced. And I'd thought I'd gotten Juhani to stop calling me that. It was spreading...

* * *

The next day, we once again traveled to the Czerka Headquarter building but this time we made for the large hall in the back. Bastila pursed her lips at the crowd. Juhani peered down at the surrounding market stalls that had been set up near the showroom’s entrance. And Carth stayed behind on the ship. After what happened yesterday, I don’t think he was too keen about getting this droid.

Bastila hadn’t said much to either Juhani, Mission, or I on the way there. And the bond wasn’t much help with determining what she felt. Just the same numb feeling.

We waited in line for ten minutes before arriving at the door of the showroom. The employee asked for proof that I had enough credits to bid. Once I showed that proof, the Czerka employee handed me a ticket and we were directed to sit in the crowd of chairs. I crossed my arms as I sat, ready to be bored to tears until the actual droid we wanted was up to bid.

Twelve droids had been lined up on the stage. HK-47 was among them. The auction began and, as I expected, it was a snooze fest. Bastila, who still hadn’t said a word to me since yesterday, crossed her arms and remained focused on the wide variety of droids being showcased. I told her about the one we looked at, but I didn’t mention it’s...odd behavior. 

The announcer finished with some medical protocol droid that sold for 4,000 before HK-47 stomped forward. 

I’d been quick to shout out a bid.

“2,000.”

The crowd, which consisted of settlers and farmers, wouldn’t like the dangerous look of HK. After a few seconds of silence passed, I was sure that we had succeeded here.

Someone near the front stood.

“3,000.”

I had to jinx it.

It was her again. That Echani. She glared back at me and I returned the look. Wait...so she wanted to destroy the thing so badly that she wanted to buy it in order to do so?

_Why does this always happen to me?_

I stood as well. “3,500.”

“4,000.”

I glared at the woman. “5,000.”

“5,250.”

“ _8,000_.”

Something kicked me in the shin. Probably Bastila. The crowd twisted around to gawk at me. The Echani woman somehow grew paler than she already appeared. Something like a glimmer of rage flickered in her silver eyes.

She sat down in defeat.

And so, we won the battle for HK-47. Probably wasn’t worth the 8,000 credits, but if he’d been destroyed then we’d have to stay here longer. And I did not want to stay here longer.

After I won the bid, I made for the mechanic’s workshop on my own to pick up the droid. Yuka Laka took off the restraining bolt (with HK grumbling complaints above him). When he finished, the droid's red lights blinked once and a high pitched click pierced my ears.

Yuka Laka sighed with relief. "Thank you for the purchase. It was getting to be a little worn out in that corner there..."

HK-47’s head swiveled and it’s red light dimmed as if it was _glaring_. 

"Objection: Worn out? Listen you talentless organic meatbag...one word from my master and I will pull you apart limb from useless limb!"

Well...I didn't expect _that_. Was it actually serious?

Yuka Laka began to shiver. "It got a little hostile there, didn't it?"

HK's stoic red metal face darkened in the shadows. "I have always been hostile, meatbag. Now that I no longer rely on your primitive maintenance skills I no longer need to hide it."

 _Great_. 

"Um, are you sure this thing is stable?" I asked.

Yuka Laka looked away in shame—he knew!

"Sorry, but I have no return policy. HK-47 is your problem now."

HK raised a metal fist. "Correction: I am not a problem you organic meatbag! You and your highly deficient mechanical skills are a problem!"

"Right...like that problem."

Looking up at the droid, I figured that the purchase was well made—despite the scary bloodlust of its programming. Maybe there was a way to...tone that down? I stormed away, completely over this day, and the droid shuffled after me.

"Thank you...and please come again!" Yuka Laka called out.

HK stomped to my side. "Query: May I kill him now, Master? I would ever so much like to crush his neck. Just a little. It's been a fantasy of mine."

I stopped and glanced back at the Ithorian while scratching my chin. A smirk and a laugh escaped my lips. This droid had fantasies?

"Hmm, maybe later."

The Ithorian dropped a wrench and the ring echoed from across the workshop.

" _Later_?"

HK’s head swiveled so that it's head was now backwards. It called back as we left. "You hear that, meatbag? I will be back!"

* * *

Bastila, Mission, and Juhani all crossed their arms and stared up at our newest member. The Jedi, of course, remained serene although I could sense a slight disturbance from Bastila. Mission, on the other hand, was absolutely terrified.

HK-47’s head scanned Czerka’s main hall as if it was looking for targets.

Bastila met my gaze. “Are you sure this is the right one?”

“It kinda looks dangerous,” Mission muttered.

Hmm...it did, didn’t it? I turned to address HK. “So, about your functionality...what do you do, exactly?"

The droid’s light blinked. "Statement: I know some elements of my functionality, Master, but not all."

"Not all? So you lied to me."

"Qualification: Er...not so much, Master. I spoke out of ignorance. I assumed that the Ithorian was to blame for my memory loss."

"Memory loss?"

"Answer: Yes, master. My past memory has been almost completely erased prior to your purchase of me."

"Well, I guess that isn't unusual for a droid..." At least for decades old units. But this one didn't look old enough to have that issue. I nodded. "Tell me what you can then."

"Observation: I am sure you know most of my functions already, Master. I can speak most languages, including the language of the Sand People. I handle heavy weaponry with ease. My physical capabilities are above those of the average meatbag, as are my sensory functions...an assassin if you would."

I flinched. "An _assassin_?"

The three ladies blanched. The droid swished its head as if scanning the room for enemies.

"Caution: Shh! Master! Such a function in a droid is highly illegal."

I glanced around, spotting a few busy Czerka employees who were giving us raised eyebrows.

"Err...I won't tell anyone." Only if, you know, the droid hadn't announced to the galaxy that he was hiding such an illegal function. I licked my lips. "So if I wanted to, I could send you loose to kill someone? Anyone? Just like that?" A few people were already coming to mind. A few annoying people.

Bastila glared at me. Oh, right, probably sensed those thoughts.

" _Wes_."

"What? It's just a question, I swear."

HK's photoreceptors dimmed. "Answer: My assassination functions are currently non-functional, having been de-activated by the meatbag Yuka Laka on Tatooine. Were they functional, you as my master would be able to specify a target and I would operate independently to the best of my ability to terminate it."

Bastila sighed. "Thank the Force."

I glanced to the side at the Czerka weapon stalls. A few sniper rifles were on sale. Well, if we were going to walk around with a defunct assassin droid, might as well make use of his combat proficiency. I approached the kiosk, passed a 2,000 credit chip over, then handed the droid the weapon.

Bastila grabbed my shoulder.

"You're _arming_ it? Are you insane?"

I shrugged. "Why not? Sure, it’s probably dangerous, but I doubt it'll kill us...right HK?"

The red droid's photoreceptors blinked. "Statement: Of course I will not harm my master, Master. And, unless you desire for me to brutally torture and kill the female meatbags, I will not attempt to do so."

Bastila, Mission, and Juhani all shouted at once.

" _Meatbags_?"

"Torture!"

“Kill?”

I laughed while rubbing the back of my head. 

"See. It's not that bad..."

"Request: But may I _please_ brutally torture and kill the female meatbags, Master? I haven't seen a bloodbath in... _so_ long."

I faced the droid with hands at my hips. " _No!_ HK you're not going to kill the female meatbags..." I snuck them a look with a smirk. "Yet _."_

" _Yet!"_ they shouted.

HK’s lights blinked and it held up it's new sniper rifle tightly. "Acknowledgment: Then I will firmly await your orders to disembowel them, Master. And by firmly I mean with palpable impatience!"

The teenager pointed at HK. "You're not going to disembowel anyone you evil droid!"

Of course, I had been joking. HK wasn't ever going to kill them while I was still alive and breathing to say anything about it.

Bastila faced me—her face growing red. "I thought you went with Carth to make sure the droid was tolerable. But it’s completely insane.”

"I think it's just joking, Bastila," I said with a shrug. "Try not to take it too seriously."

“But this is supposed to help us talk to the Sand People,” Juhani said. “We’ll be shot at if this is what he sounds like!”

Bastila nodded. “Is there anyway at all that you can...tell it to not be like that or something?”

I glanced up at the droid. It’s red beady eyes blinked slowly. 

“HK, tone it down, will yah?”

“Inquiry: Tone what down, Master?”

“I don’t know...your persistent desire to kill anything that moves?”

“Affirmative: Of course, Master. Apology: Unfortunately, Master, I have been programmed with a limitless desire to ‘kill anything that moves.’ Therefore, despite obeying that _ridiculous_ order, I’m afraid that I will never meet your meatbag standards.”

I threw my hands into the air. “Look—I tried, alright?”

Bastila sighed. “I suppose it will have to do. At the very least it doesn’t seem to be able to attack anyone on a whim.”

Juhani shivered. “That we know of.”

And with the Jedi’s final comment, we all marched out of Czerka Headquarters, either feeling accomplished with a slight tinge of defeat or defeated with a slight tinge of accomplishment. Still couldn’t decide which one I felt myself, honestly...

Now that we had the droid, all we had to do was go to this Sand People camp and try to convince them to tell us the location of the Krayt Dragon’s lair. And, of course, I knew that would be a pain in the ass to deal with. Before we set out on that quest, we had to grab the speeder sitting in our ship. I told the group that I could get the speeder and bring it over instead of having all of us walk to the Ebon Hawk. Bastila, of course, did not like the idea.

“What if you’re attacked again? It isn’t safe—we need to stick together.”

I pointed a thumb at the towering assassin droid. “I think I’m more than protected with this murder machine.”

HK’s response was a faint dimming of his lights. Wait...did it actually feel proud about being called that or something?

Thankfully, that was enough to convince the stubborn Jedi. Five minutes into our walk to the Ebon Hawk, HK and I crossed the street toward the spaceport. It was now lunchtime and the buzz around the city had caused massive crowds of hunters, miners, and gangsters to flock. There was so much going on, so many sensations to detect, that I didn’t notice before it was too late.

Something cold hit my back.

“Don’t. Move.”

The voice was familiar. I turned my head to see who was threatening me.

That Echani woman. _Again_.

She pushed the weapon hard into my back. “I said _don’t_ _move_.”

I raised my eyebrows, smirking. “So, do you just like threatening people with blasters? Or do you have a point?”

“Give me the droid.”

“Why, so that you can destroy it? No thanks.”

HK-47’s mechanical limbs clanked along with the sound of the sniper rifle powering up. A dangerous hiss echoed with his voice. “Warning: I would advise that you drop your weapon, meatbag, before I shoot your brains into orbit.”

“You know…” I began. “It’s rather stupid of you to threaten someone like this out in public.”

“You would have sensed me if I tried to catch you alone. And do you really think these people care?”

I glanced out at the crowd. Of course, this planet had no enforcing body other than Czerka. So, the populous of Anchorhead avoided us rather than shout for patrols.

“Who are you anyway?” I asked.

“No questions. Hand me the droid and I won’t kill you.”

“You do know that thing is going to follow up on his threat if you do that, right?”

The Echani’s blaster twitched. “It shuts down after the death of its master.”

“Oh, and how would you know that?”

While I was speaking, I gradually moved my hand to my lightsaber. Before the Echani could answer, I unleashed the blade and cut the blaster in a single stroke. The thing went off, however, the bolt had been deflected into the sky. 

The crowd stopped moving around us after my lightsaber hissed on. HK also tried to fire a round but I don't think it fought well in close quarters. The Echani beat the sniper rifle with that double-sided vibroblade as if it was a bug. It clattered to the ground and the droid began...laughing maniacally. Distracted by that, I barely dodged her vibroblade. As she hammered away at me, I blocked her fast strokes and backed away towards the alleyways. The Echani was deft and swift with her blade—the cortosis coated metal rang with each blow that I blocked with the lightsaber.

“HK! Shoot her!”

The sound of the sniper rifle warming up rang in the air again. Only, before HK could fire another round, she twisted her vibroblade and forced me between her and the droid.

HK hissed. “Exasperation: I cannot, _Master,_ because your big fat meatbag of a head is in the way!”

She seethed as I pushed down on her blade.

“Why the hell would a _Jedi_ buy a droid like that?” she asked.

I blocked the next sweeping strike. “Sane people would ask that question first!”

For some reason, that caused the Echani to stop her attacks. Before she continued, I used the Force on her vibroblade. The weapon spun in the air and stuck itself into the opposite wall. I raised the blue blade up to her face while my breath caught up and sweat fell from my brow.

HK sauntered up. “Irritation: What are you waiting for, Master? Terminate her!”

The Echani’s silver eyes twitched at the sound of the droid, but she didn’t say anything despite having a lightsaber raised to her face.

Eventually, I lowered my weapon arm. HK made a disappointed hiss. I waved to the street. “Just go. I’ll forget this happened.”

“Are you Sith?” She sneered. “Because only a Sith would get a droid like that.”

“You have a really weird obsession. Why do you care about destroying HK so much?”

“Because it _murdered him!_ ” 

The Echani’s broken shout rang out in the alleyway. I gaped in shock then glanced over at the dangerous droid. Right, I suppose it was an assassin. It was bound to have made a few enemies…

I frowned. “I’m...sorry if it caused you harm, but we need it to translate the Sand People for us. It’s just a droid. A machine. Whoever sent it is the one you should blame.”

She sighed before gazing down at her boots. “The one I should blame...is dead.”

“Great,” I smiled, “guess that means this whole thing is behind us now.”

I turned and pulled the double-sided vibroblade out of the wall. _Blood dripped from the mouth of a white haired man._ Blinking once, I hefted the blade up to eyelevel. The weapon had a strange aura in the force—was it the dark side? Perhaps...but there was something else. A presence like one of the visions I shared with Bastila. 

My comm jolted to life. “Guys, we have a problem.”

Carth—his voice sounded frantic. I held the comm up to my face.

“What now?”

"Don't come back."

I pursed my lips. "Uh, why not?"

Silence came from the other end before Carth responded. "A Sith troop landed in our port and started asking about our ship." Before I could ask how many we were dealing with here, Carth continued. "And that's not even the most shocking detail. Because the one leading them around was _Calo Nord_."

I froze at the mention of the bounty hunter's name. Calo Nord, the one that almost blew up the Ebon Hawk. He's still alive? Kriff...how was that even possible? The entire roof collapsed onto him!

In the corner of my eye, I noticed the Echani’s face had tightened. Did she know who that was? 

The comm hissed and Bastila’s sharp voice ignited it. 

"Explain."

The pilot breathed once into the mic. "I couldn’t even believe it myself. But it had to be him—turban, goggles and everything. Thankfully, the Czerka officials stopped the Sith from prying open our ship...but Bastila, I don't think we have much time left."

We were on a time limit before Malak grew impatient with us again, huh? I spoke into the comm. “But we need that speeder. We can’t just walk across the desert. Have they already left?”

“No, they’ve stationed some guards nearby. I don’t think they know that Zaalbar and I are on board…” He sighed again. “And I have a feeling if I fly the Hawk out of here and meet you somewhere else, they’ll give chase.”

Damn it. I scratched my head in deep thought. “Well then, we could just all go to the port and take them by surprise.”

“Wes...at least twenty of them are still on their ship and another twenty followed Calo into the city.”

“We could take 'em.”

Bastila huffed. “We can't _take them all_. Instead, we’ll have to rent a speeder from Czerka.”

“You heard, Carth,” I shouted. “They're literally banging down our doors. Getting a speeder from Czerka is going to take ages based on the way they run this hellhole of a planet.”

“It's either that or we walk for days across the desert!” Bastila groaned. “Wes, watch for Calo on your way back to us and _please_ don’t try anything reckless.”

“Reckless? Me?”

“At this point, I expect it.”

And with that, my comm clicked signaling the Jedi had shut it off. Of course, I knew our lackadaisical attitude was going eventually bite us in the ass. The heat of this planet was making my brain go soft, I swear. The Echani stepped up to me with a curious look. Oh. Almost forgot that she was standing there...

“So...does this mean you’re not Sith then?”

HK-47’s head twisted. “Observation: The female meatbag is still breathing. I expected more ruthlessness from you, Master. I will have to revise my character analysis of you."

Character analysis? And wait... _revise_? What kind of person did the droid think I was before? 


	23. Tatooine: Tactically Retreating

The streets still bustled with the afternoon traffic and I scanned the crowds for a flash of dark armor. When I didn’t sense nor see the Sith, I walked out into the streets while flipping up my hood. However, my stealth was ruined by a metallic stomp behind me. Despite being an assassin droid, HK-47 stuck out like a red thumb. 

Someone else followed with lighter steps. Without looking back, I called out to this someone.

“Why are you following me?”

The Echani rushed to my side. “For one, I would like that back.” She pointed at the double-sided vibroblade. “For another, I’m not letting that thing out of sight.”

I switched the vibroblade to my other hand. “If you can’t tell, I have more pressing things to be worrying about.” 

Calo Nord’s blue coat flashed on the opposite end of the street. _Like that_. With him, twenty to thirty or so Sith troops marched towards Anchorhead’s gates. Which meant they were heading my way. I cursed and dove into the alleyways—HK following.

Leaning against the wall, I looked down at the marching sounds of the Sith passing. 

The Echani woman leaned against the opposite wall.

“You do know what an HK unit is, right?”

“Yup.”

“And you still want it?”

“Sure.”

“Are you stupid?”

Kriff this Echani was aggravating. I peeked up from beneath my hood and sighed once I realized the Sith had passed. Over the short buildings, Czerka Headquarters towered to the south. 

Before I left again, the Echani entered my bubble.

“That thing could be on a mission. And if it is, it wouldn’t stick to you willingly even if you purchased it. Either you or someone you know could be its intended target. You’ve bought a live grenade.”

I turned to face HK. The deadly thing’s head swiveled as it scanned the crowd outside of the alleyways. Would Malak delegate the task of killing us to a mere droid?

HK-47’s lights dimmed as I glanced up and down at him. “First of all, it would have attacked by now if that was true.” The Echani opened her mouth to argue, but I continued. “Second of all, we wouldn’t be chased like this by the Sith if HK was assigned to ‘assassinate’ us. And, lastly, it _told_ me it was an assassin.” I smirked. “Have to try better than that, sister.”

The Echani was speechless after I mentioned those facts. I thought I’d scared her off, but she rushed in front of me before I could leave the alley.

“Why is Calo Nord after you anyway?”

I placed a hand on my lightsaber. “Look— _whoever you are_ —that is none of your business and, frankly, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“Verena.”

“I don’t care. Stop following me or I’ll let HK do what he wants.”

The assassin droid’s trigger finger twitched. “Request: Oh, please, Master, don’t give her a choice!”

I ignored HK and marched out into the street. The Echani, Verena, didn’t follow as I passed her with a shove. Hopefully it stayed that way.

The streets widened as I skulked towards the Czerka buildings, trying my best to avoid the Sith troopers that had begun to invade the city. When I arrived at Czerka headquarters, Bastila was shouting at the receptionists while Juhani and Mission stood off to the side. HK held his rifle close as we stomped our way up to the ongoing conflict.

I approached Juhani with a raised brow. The young Jedi shook her head.

“We’ve run into some...issues.”

I waved a hand. “That’s an understatement.”

“Czerka rents speeders to company employees for free...but for civilians their prices are ridiculous.” The Cathar sneered. “Even with our hunting license, they’re saying it’ll cost 1,000 credits per _hour_. And once time runs out, it automatically returns to the speeder ports.”

Bastila’s frustration flowed through our bond. My own frustration matched. I marched up to the employee and began to fight with them as well. However, not even the Force or my intelligently worded arguments could convince them to part with credits. Czerka would need to be dead and buried in the sands before that happened.

Defeated—resigned, we all left Czerka Headquarters. Bastila followed my example and raised her hood before we weaved through the streets to find some hidden nook in the shadier part of town. Less people there would care about our suspicious actions. We stopped to hide in another alleyway after Bastila sensed a Sith troop approaching. While we waited for the soldiers to leave the area, Mission pointed at the vibroblade in my hand. 

“What’s that?”

The Jedi also stared at the weapon I’d inadvertently stolen from the Echani. I lifted the blade.

“Oh...this?” I hooked the vibroblade to my back through my bag belt and tightened the straps. I could have abandoned it, but...for some reason that felt like a waste. “That Echani woman at the auction attacked me and tried to destroy HK. I nabbed this from her before she made another attempt.” 

Bastila rubbed the bridge of her nose. “As if we didn’t have enough problems.”

“Don’t worry, I chased her off. Hopefully, she’s given up…” I glanced back—Bastila more than likely sensed my worry. “Where are we going? We can’t run around Anchorhead all day. Calo’s going to find us eventually.”

Before she could answer, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alleyway. All three of us with lightsabers pulled them out while Mission and HK raised their blasters. Before we unleashed our attack on the hidden foe, Canderous Ordo sauntered around the corner.

I lowered my weapon and glared at the Mando.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?”

Canderous chuckled darkly. “I should be asking why you are sneaking around like wanted criminals. Is something exciting happening?”

Bastila took over the interrogation by stepping out of the shade of the overhang—closer to the Mandalorian. “ _Exciting?_ The Sith have shown up. If you think that is _exciting_ —”

 _Danger_. 

Bastila deflected the red bolt with her yellow blades before the blaster fire connected with the Mando’s back. Canderous shuffled away with a rare expression of surprise. He turned on his blaster shield and took his heavy rifle from his back. Multiple bolts rippled the purple shield as he shot red beams at the Sith troop. Juhani and I joined Bastila in defending against the red onslaught. Mission and HK shot at them from our rears.

“You idiot!” Bastila shouted. “You led them straight to us!”

Canderous grunted as the bolts began to break his shield. “How the hell was I supposed to know, princess?”

“If you’d brought a comm with you like the rest of us then you’d know!”

The troop had trapped us in this hallway and any bolts sent back ended up embedded in the surrounding adobe walls. Before we could try to retreat to the southern end, Mission shouted over the barrage. 

“Guys! There’s more of ‘em!”

My gaze flitted back only for a moment. _Kriff._ We were surrounded. Both the northern and southern exits led to a black wall of Sith troopers. Yet, as soon as the fighting had begun, the shooting ceased. All of us tightened our weapons and glanced back and forth between both ends of the alleyway. Then a cold, strange feeling choked the air. 

A blue robed figure stepped around the dark soldiers at the northern end of the alley.

Calo Nord had seen better days. A deep scar trailed along his pudgy face and those stupid goggles hid his eyes. An ambient humming came from beneath his loose left sleeve. A generated arm—probably blown off from that detonator he almost killed me with. So, he hadn't escaped Taris unscathed.

Calo's scarred face smirked at me. "We meet again. You’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve completed your background check. You’ve had many, _many_ professions. What are you calling yourself now? A...soldier? Smuggler? Ah, no, wait—you’re calling yourself a _Jedi_. The joke writes itself."

Heat filled my chest and I raised my blue blade. "Were you laughing at it in the grave, Calo?"

"Funny, I was going to ask you the same question," he said.

Canderous aimed his heavy blaster at the bounty hunter. “Enough talk. How the _hell_ are you still alive?”

Calo chuckled. “I’ve made new friends, Canderous. Ones that won’t _stab me in the back_ .” After he mentioned those _friends_ , the soldiers took a step forward. “We’ve got you cornered. Either the Jedi surrender themselves or we do this the hard way.”

Eventually, my sight locked onto the side of the building and then up to the roof. 

_Dead or alive… Penalty for failure is death..._

It was a gamble. 

I pulled Bastila towards the side of the building.

“What are you—!”

“Come on!”

I ignored Bastila’s denials and, using the Force, I began to scale the side of the building. Fortunately, the Sith took the bait. Calo cursed and was forced to either allow me to escape—on pain of death—or to go after me.

He chose the latter.

“Don’t let him get away!”

I deflected all the bolts that came my way with one hand while I pulled myself up to the rooftop with the other. I could somehow hear Bastila’s huffs along with a “I can’t believe this” over the sound of the barrage. Eventually she pulled herself up to the rooftop with me and began to defend my back.

I smirked at her over my shoulder painfully. “Glad of you to join me.”

“We can’t just abandon them!”

“Who are they after at the moment, sunshine?”

“Oh, so that makes it okay to _run_?”

“No—we’re tactically retreating!”

I continued deflecting their bolts as I dashed across the rooftops in order to get a closer vantage point. Bastila followed me, guarding my back as I helped our friends on the ground.

A clothes line hanging dirty laundry swung with the vibrations of chaos below. Focusing, I snapped the line with the Force. The dark troops cursed after their sights were...unfortunately obscured by undergarments. After most of his troops stopped shooting, Calo ran away towards the courtyard like a coward.

Hopping over the rooftop hydroponic gardens, I avoided the rest of the blaster fire as best as I could. Soon, Bastila and I’d gained more ground than everyone below so the southern troop was forced to focus their attention on us again.

Two more of the northern troopers fell to HK, Mission, and Canderous’ bolts. Eventually, they had taken out the rest of the Sith that covered the north exit into the courtyard. Smirking at our victory, I jumped from the edge of the roof and let myself smoothly drop back down to the cleared courtyard. Bastila followed with another annoyed huff.

I kicked some of the fallen underwear with a snort. Who knew that dirty drawers were the Sith’s ultimate weakness?

Yet, I celebrated too soon. 

A lightsaber smashed and a strong sensation of pain entered my head. The dark Jedi bared down with his red lightsaber and I was forced to push back. 

“Wes!”

That was Bastila. Another dark Jedi had appeared and wielded his own lightsaber to match Bastila’s double-staff.

Our friends had arrived in the courtyard, unscathed, yet they were now the soldiers' main focus. And our only defense. Blaster fire erupted from the southern end of the alleyway. Too much blaster fire. 

The dark Jedi laughed as he kicked in my chest. Staggering back, I defended myself from his hurricane-like blows. The attacks were more fierce than the last Sith I faced. Somehow, though, I managed to break his offense with a shove in the Force. The dark Jedi staggered himself and before he recovered, I held out a hand and focused. The Sith flew across the small courtyard and his lightsaber flipped in the air before landing far from our position. He sagged against the wall of one of the hovels. I rushed towards him with my lightsaber poised.

Yet, before I could reach him, the dark Jedi lifted a shaky hand. Sparks filled his fingertips. I held my blade to block his attack. 

Except...

"Bastila!"

But it was too late. The lightning shot out of his hands and hit her directly in the back. She shouted before collapsing. A sharp _pain_ filled the space between us. It filled my chest as if _I_ had been hit. I flinched at the sensation. 

_This...this was Bastila’s_ pain _._

Horrified, I rushed to the dark Sith and, before he could do anything, I painted his neck with the red heat of my lightsaber. His lifeless body sagged and his head rolled away. With his death, the pain in the bond numbed.

Yet, I couldn’t rest. The other dark Jedi approached Bastila's still figure. _Get the HELL away from her!_ With a speed and a ferocity that I couldn't fathom, I dove towards the red blade and blocked Bastila's attacker. The man, surprised, staggered back. 

The blaster shots behind me were still going on. I chanced a look over to Calo's last position. The rest of our team were still somehow managing to hold back the rest of the Sith troops. Canderous and Mission dove to the side of the alley in time while HK-47 stayed in their line of sight. _Suicidal droid_. Juhani tried to deflect all the bolts to give the others time to attack. 

_But still, no sign of Calo._

I’d looked for too long. The Sith arched a horizontal slice at my abdomen that I almost missed blocking. He called his fallen comrade’s lightsaber to him and I was fighting against two red blades, ducking hums, predicting vertical slices. Sweat ran down my forehead.

Meanwhile, Bastila struggled to stand as I weaved from the Sith’s attacks. Evil yellow eyes grinned at me with the barrage of light and sound. Soon, I grew tired of dodging and weaving . The dark Jedi hit me in the face with the backend of one of the lightsaber staffs. 

_Crack!_

I reeled back and blood pooled down my lips from a possibly broken nose. Red light flickered and then—

Then, a hiss. The dark Jedi roared in pain while dropping his lightsabers.

A yellow blade had pierced his thigh.

Taking advantage of Bastila’s surprise, I stabbed his torso—the yellow disappeared from his eyes. His body fell with an echo.

Sighing with relief, I glanced down at Bastila who had her head bowed from exhaustion. Striding up to her, I held out a hand. She ignored me and stood of her own accord. Looking down at my empty hand, I closed it awkwardly into a fist as if I had never offered it to her to begin with.

Calo was nowhere to be seen. Gone. _Coward_. 

Before I could celebrate, again, there was another shout of pain. 

“Juhani!” 

Bastila shouted this while she rushed towards the young Jedi—deflecting the ongoing blaster barrage. A bolt burned the Cathar’s leg and she hissed in pain while staggering to the ground. 

_Kriff_. We’d taken too long with the dark Jedi. Mission and Canderous occasionally shot at the Sith troops but they couldn’t put up a decent defense. HK-47’s metallic laughter interrupted the hissing sounds of Bastila deflecting the blows in order to protect Juhani. I joined her but I knew that, eventually, we would be overpowered like our fallen friend.

Juhani pulled herself up to the side of the wall—out of the way of the firefight. 

“Get out of here!” she shouted at us.

Right. I grabbed Bastila’s shoulder but she didn’t budge. 

“Let’s go, moron!”

“We can’t leave her behind!” 

“Yes, we can!”

Her gray eyes briefly met mine _._ A twitch of anger entered the bond. Before I could shout at her again, Bastila broke off from deflecting the bolts and helped the Cathar to her feet. I grunted in pain as I both defended from the bolts and tried to follow the Jedi.

“Exclamation: The pudgy meatbag has escaped! Query: May I use my blaster to imprint a bolt within the back of his neural functions, Master?”

“Sure, HK, but now is really not the time!”

When I could sense that Bastila and Juhani had left the courtyard, I broke away from the defense. I met Mission and Canderous’ gazes. 

“Come on!”

We escaped the fight and followed Bastila and Juhani’s lead through the endlessly twisting Anchorhead alleyways.

* * *

_One...two...three._

_Crack!_

“ _Agh_ —!”

I snapped my dislocated nose into place. Tears sprung into my eyes. Canderous’ blurry figure shook—probably laughing at my pain for some reason—while Mission’s blue blur leaned close to my face. I laid my head down on the table as the pain passed into utter exhaustion.

We’d hid ourselves within a dark cantina far away from when we’d had our battle with Calo’s goons. This one was filled with spice dealers and spice addicts. The lowest of the low. Exactly what we were now.

Bastila and I were hidden in the corner of the circular booth while Canderous and Mission sat in front of us with pained sneers. Juhani took up most of the booth with her injured leg. The droid stood on guard beside me—it’s head swiveling from side to side. Watching the spice dealers and addicts.

Mission flinched with each passing shadow by the window. I placed my elbows on the table and pat my bloodied nose dry with one of the provided napkins. The Mandalorian raised his bushy brows at me with a chuckle. I glared at him.

“What is _so_ funny, Mando?”

Embarrassingly, my voice still sounded like a freight horn.

“Nothing.” Canderous raised his drink to his lips—one I was tempted to steal. “Nothing but our current situation.”

Right. Our current situation. Juhani was injured and we hadn’t brought med packs with us. The Sith were prowling about. Calo ran off like a coward. Carth was trapped on the Ebon Hawk. And Anchorhead had become another prison.

Our only hope now was to find the Star Map and get out of this dump. There had to be something we could do to leave the city without drawing Calo’s attention. I glanced to the side. Bastila’s face was carved of stone. I tried to read her emotions in the bond, yet she’d become cold after that battle.

No one had spoken up in a while. Mission looked down at the table with balled fists. Canderous was getting drunk. Bastila had been frozen in carbonite. Juhani was barely conscious. HK, well...HK was HK. So, I guess it was up to me then. 

I took the napkin away from my nose. The blood had stopped flowing. 

“We need a plan.”

Neither Mission, Juhani, or Canderous moved. But Bastila finally broke her stasis. “Plan?” The Jedi’s face tightened. “Oh, well it’s good that you’re asking us for a plan instead of acting on your own accord for once.”

I pursed my chapped lips. “I’m sorry—were we supposed to sit around a table and debate how we were going to get out of that situation?”

“You risked their _lives_ .” Bastila shook her head. “Calo could have had them killed if he hadn’t been so eager to kill _us_.”

“And it was a good thing that he was so eager to kill us.”

“How were you so sure?”

I licked my bloodied lips.

“Part of it was...a gamble.”

“Oh, so you just gambled with their lives?” she asked. “On a whim?”

“It wasn’t on a _whim_.” I clenched my fists. “It was either we drew their fire or we all died trapped in that alleyway. And—guess what—we’re alive.”

“We could have found another way.”

“What _way_ , Bastila? From where I’m sitting it looks like that was the way—”

“Guys! Guys!”

Mission interrupted our bickering with a wave of her hands. Her face had become tight. Kriff, we really shouldn’t have gotten a kid like her into this mess. My shoulders sank. I hadn’t realized it, but the bond between Bastila had turned...cold. Distant.

Bastila rubbed her temple. “You want a plan? Here is the plan. We get supplies then sneak out of Anchorhead. We walk to the Sand People’s encampment.”

I crossed my arms. “That could take days. The Sith are not patient if you recall. If they haven’t left already, they’ll head for the Star Map to set a trap.” 

Bastila’s emotions flared in the bond. “Well then, other than gambling with people’s lives, do you have any bright ideas?”

Heat gathered in my chest—my mouth bitter. I glanced away from her and out the frosted window again. More shadows passed over the dirty glass along with the silence. I just couldn’t look at the Jedi anymore without feeling like I had to justify myself.

The sound of the many Czerka miners bustling at the entrance of the cantina interrupted my thoughts.

An idea formed.

“The sandcrawlers…” I looked up at the three. “They go to the mines up north near the Sand People’s camp. If we snuck on board, that would get us there faster then if we went on foot. And Calo wouldn’t know to look for us there.”

A small grin lit Mission’s face. “So...we’d be like smugglers?”

I matched the Twi’lek’s expression.

“Exactly.”

Bastila rubbed her forehead with feelings of dismay. “What about Juhani?”

Oh. Right, Juhani. The poor Cathar had drifted into a dreary state. Guilt, for some reason, built into my chest. No, why should _I_ feel guilty? We’d survived because of my quick thinking.

“She’ll have to stay behind.”

“And risk getting caught by the Sith?” Bastila asked.

I chuckled. “There is no way they’ll recognize her. She’s safer than all of us here, sunshine.”

Before Bastila could find some way to argue about that, a pained voice whispered from the booth. 

“I want...to help.”

I pursed my lips. “Juhani—”

“No, let me do this, Gale.” She pushed herself up. Her yellow eyes still had pain within them. “After I get back onto my feet, I can buy you some time. Lead the Sith troops around. Make them think...you’re still in the city.”

I raised a brow. “Not a bad idea…”

Of course, Bastila wasn’t going to have it. “No, that is not an option.”

“Bastila...please.”

With Juhani’s plea, the Jedi finally relented with a large sigh. 

“And what of Carth?”

“What about him?” I shrugged. “They don’t know he’s on board the Ebon Hawk. He’s in a better position to run away, honestly.” 

“But unlike _some_ people, he wouldn’t do that.”

My hands balled into a fists at the Jedi’s scathing remarks. I tried to reel in the anger— _there is no emotion, there is peace_ —but dark thoughts, thoughts of my continued failures, rung within my mind. Because she was right. I was just a smuggler before all of this, after all. A coward who didn’t spend _one moment_ hesitating before leaving his friends to the curb. 

_Crack_.

Canderous cursed. 

The glass in the Mando’s hand crumbled as if he’d gripped it too hard. I unclenched my fists and stared numbly at the broken shards. The Mandalorian chuckled at me as he brushed the glass away. 

“Whoops.”

But Bastila had sensed what I’d done—because of course she did. The anger I’d felt through the bond softened. The dark accusations. The fleeting feelings of...hatred. These days, after confronting Bastila’s mother, the bond had numbed so much that I’d barely noticed it was there.

My shoulders untensed. “I...” 

_Sorry._

Maybe she heard that thought. Maybe not. It was hard to tell.

The Jedi sat back in the booth. Her face had returned to stone. “Fine. But we need supplies—both for Juhani and our journey.” She sat back. “We’ll sneak aboard the sandcrawlers. Tonight.”

* * *

The cool air of night surrounded us like the dark side. I led us through the alleys and shortcuts towards the square of the Czerka warehouse. HK had been assigned bag duty and carried enough supplies for a few days in case we somehow got stuck out there for too long. The droid complained about being a pack bantha and insisted he wasn’t some “pacifistic, wimpish protocol droid.” Fortunately, it was far more obedient in his actions than his words. 

It was either because of the claustrophobic spaces or the speed at which I was going...but Bastila followed close behind.

A bit too close...

We stopped before entering the courtyard facing the side of the warehouse. I sniffed once, scooting away from the Jedi. However, after a short while of walking she either consciously or unconsciously moved closer. I narrowed my eyes.

"There is a thing called 'personal space,' you know."

Bastila looked at me fully, peering past the shadow my hood created over my face. At first it seemed as if she didn't understand what I said before she flinched away. I eyed her suspiciously then returned my attention to the warehouse doors. 

Mission had found some security spikes being sold at the black marketplace. The plan was for the teen to break into the back doors reserved for employees only. The rest of us would watch the Twi’lek’s back as she worked. Any sensation or sight of trouble, we’d jump back into the alleys. We couldn’t risk anyone finding out what we were up to.

A few cameras scanned the area around the door. Of course, Czerka wasn’t going to skimp out on protection over their credits. The young Twi’lek met my gaze before sneaking out of the cover of the alleyways. She ran to the side of the building, sticking close to the shadows and out of the camera’s peripherals. Eventually, she got to the backdoor’s security panel. With a quick motion, she detached the panel with a hot laser then plugged in wires from the spike to the controls as if she’d done it a million times before.

Half a minute later, the green lights on the cameras dimmed. We ran across the street beside the young Twi'lek—HK somehow mimicked our quiet footfalls. Canderous leaned on the corner, checking for any droid patrols, then waved a hand signaling that we were clear.

The previously locked door hissed open and the lights on the cameras flickered on once more.

_So far so good…_

Bastila led Canderous and I after Mission into the darkness of the warehouse.

A spooky atmosphere echoed around my ears. The once lively warehouse had become lifeless. The sandcrawlers were all locked up for the night and wouldn’t budge until morning. We bent low as we passed through the rows of shipping containers, Bastila and I watched out in the Force for the occasional floating security droid.

We stopped at the first sandcrawler. Mission took the lead again and connected her spike to the vehicle’s control panel.

“So...good news and bad news,” she whispered.

I sighed. “What’s the good news?”

“It’ll just take an hour.”

I grimaced. “What? Make sense.”

“Well _maybe_ you shouldn’t have asked for the good news first.”

Bastila walked to the teen’s side. “What will take an hour, Mission?”

“For the security spike to charge.”

“Are you kidding me?” I hissed. “It shouldn’t be out of charge already.”

“Well, we did buy these second hand...”

I rubbed my face and peered around the sandcrawler’s treads. None of the security droids had made their rounds yet but I wouldn’t be surprised if they came by in an hour. I glanced towards the textured metal then back towards the silver mining droids parked by the crawler.

I pointed to the droids. “HK, blend in.”

“Affirmative.”

The red droid shuffled beside the mining droids then shut off its photoreceptors. If anyone passed by, it looked like some junk protocol droid ready to be dumped. 

Without a word to the sentient members of our team, I gripped onto the metal tread pipes then pulled myself into the small crawl space. The security droids would have trouble scanning the metal of the treads.

Everyone else followed my lead, sitting, cramped within the sandy, gruby sandcrawler treads. Canderous sat to my right while Bastila crawled to my left. Mission, who was smaller than all of us, had no trouble squeezing with us into the remaining space. The Jedi’s face contorted with disgust and Canderous’ laugh echoed in the metal space. 

“Afraid to get your hands dirty, princess?”

In the darkness, I noticed that the Jedi had already gotten some oil on her nose.

“Quiet,” was her only response.

The Mandalorian grinned wide as he addressed me. “You know, Wes, if more prissy Jedi like Bastila fought in the war, my side might have won.”

Anger at Canderous words radiated through the bond. I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. Not because I cared about Bastila’s feelings—no—because we still had to be quiet enough to not be detected by the droid’s sensors.

“ _Prissy_ ?” The Jedi’s hiss vibrated the metal. “I am not _prissy_ . _You,_ on the other hand, are an ignorant, washed up…” Before she could go on her insult rampage, the bond numbed once more. “There is no emotion, there is peace.”

“Guys…” Mission muttered.

Canderous pah-ed. “That's the problem with you Jedi. Always chanting about peace and control, never up for a good fight. Well, except for Revan, I guess.”

I grinned after feeling Bastila’s mortification. “ _That is—_ ”

“Shh! Guys!” Mission interrupted the Jedi with a serious look on her face. “I heard something...”

A pale hand gripped the metal before us and a shadow pulled itself into the tread. Bastila and I grabbed our lightsabers tight, Canderous unsheathed his combat knife, and Mission held her blaster.

That damn _Echani_ , Verena, pulled herself beside the Mandalorian and raised a white brow at us. Well, more like me in particular.

“Wha—?” 

That had been Bastila.

“Who—?”

That had been Mission.

“Kriffin’.” 

For once that was Canderous.

I hissed through my teeth. “ _Stalker_ .” I pointed a finger at her. “I told you to _stop following me_! Actually, how the hell did you keep up with us?”

Verena acted as if she hadn’t heard me and instead looked at her nails as if trying to clean them.

“It’s not hard to spot the droid.”

She was referring to HK. Force, that thing was ending up being more trouble than it was worth. And it wasn’t due to it’s bloodthirsty quips.

Bastila crossed her arms. “Is this that Echani you were talking about?”

“ _Unfortunately_.”

Before Verena could say anything else to excuse this creepy habit of hers, Mission waved her hand. “Shh, guys, the security droids.”

We all shut up then, though I was sending dirty looks to the Echani who joined our little party without being invited. The woman’s face grew tight as she stared off into the shadows of the warehouse. An hour passed in silence. Bastila gradually became uncomfortable in the presence of this random stranger. Canderous had that glint in his eye. And Mission stared wearily back at the Echani.

Eventually, the small red light turned green.

“‘K!” Mission took the spike off the charge. “Let’s roll!”

After the next security droid passed, we climbed out of the track and made for the control panel again. While Mission worked on getting the sandcrawler unlocked, Bastila brushed sand and oil from her robes before glaring at Verena. I matched her expression with a sneer.

“You’re _lucky_ that I don’t trust you to keep quiet. Otherwise, I’d kick you out of here,” I said.

Verena’s brow remained raised and that stoic expression of hers hadn’t flinched.

“What...are you doing?”

Bastila’s face tightened. “Who even are you?”

Of course, the Echani wasn’t given answers. And I wasn’t going to provide them. Finally, the control panel glowed green. The door on the side of the crawler creaked open and the ladder up to it _hissed_ then slapped the concrete floor. We all flinched and glanced around the warehouse. Fortunately, none of the security droids were nearby to hear that.

Mission climbed up first then followed the rest of us—Echani included. HK-47 tailed—his stiff mechanical body took longer to ascend the metal ladder. Once we all entered the crawler, the door creaked shut behind us.

Inside—pure darkness. Since we were only within the cargo holds, we risked a light. Bastila shined her torch and the beam passed over empty containers painted with the Czerka insignia. More mining droids surrounded those containers. She met my gaze _._ Must have gotten the same idea. 

Digging through the supplies I packed onto HK, I grabbed a rope and tied a small discarded machine part to it. Using a brief spurt of the Force, I threw the part over the container. It landed on the other side with a clang.

Verena winced. “Can you be a little more quiet?”

I glared at the Echani before gripping the rope and facing the droid. “HK, go into standby mode. Knock the container at the first sign of trouble.”

After the droid gave a firm confirmation, I began my climb to the top. The rest of the team followed—plus Verena. The container was sandy and about as filthy as the sandcrawler treads. With a sigh, I collapsed in the corner. The heat within this place was already causing me to sweat. I leaned against the hot metal. 

“Now we wait,” I muttered at the three—plus Verena. “Might as well get some sleep before we start moving.”

Mission pounced on that idea and didn’t even hesitate before laying down in the other corner. Canderous dropped his pack in front of me then sat in the opposite wall. The Mando rested his head on the side of the container—even though he closed his eyes and looked asleep, I wouldn’t doubt that he could be up and shooting within the second.

Bastila passed me without a glance and made for the far side of the container. She sat with crossed legs and began to float in meditation. She still didn’t want to talk, huh? I rolled my eyes. Despite saying we should rest, I didn’t feel an ounce of fatigue.

The Echani, of course, sat next to me. She eyed the vibroblade I still carried on my back. I sneered at the action and grabbed the weapon in my hand before she could even think about it.

Verena sighed. “Why are we hiding in a sandcrawler, _Jedi_.”

"Wes Gale.”

“Why are we hiding in a sandcrawler, _Wes Gale_?”

I balanced the vibroblade in my hand while looking up into the gray darkness. “First of all, if you haven’t heard, the Sith are after us. Second of all, I don't want to get stuck out in the desert in the middle of the night and freeze my balls off.”

"It's just like a Jedi to hide like a coward."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I pointed the vibroblade at her. "You have something against Jedi?"

Verena finally faced me. She seemed to think for a moment before her eyes landed on the vibroblade I was threatening her with.

She slumped. "I was never on good terms with Jedi. Or Sith."

"O-kay..." I lowered the blade, the sparks snapping up as it cut through the air. "Why aren’t you on good terms with Sith? Or Jedi?”

"It's just like a Jedi to invade other people's privacy."

Great, I was doing it now too? I glanced over to the meditating Jedi. Bastila must have begun to rub off on me. I placed the blade down onto the metal floor.

"Privacy fertilizes secrets."

Verena raised an eyebrow. "But _you_ are the one hiding secrets. For example, the droid.”

“The droid, the droid! It’s always ‘the droid’ with you.” I rubbed a hand through my hair. “We need information from the Sand People. HK-47 is the only thing on this rock that understands them. That’s why I couldn’t just let you bash him to pieces.”

She pursed her lips. “I see.”

“Great. You see. Now that’s cleared up, you can go now.”

“No. As long as that thing is still standing, I’m following.”

Oh, great. I’d gained another stalker—this one even more unwelcome then the last. The atmosphere grew awkward, Verena's attention drifting away from me to the floor. Finally, her sigh cut the silence.

"That blade belonged to an Echani called Yusanis."

I paused at the change in subject.

"Uh, who?"

She gaped at me, astonished. "You know nothing of Yusanis? Where have you been living all this time—the Outer Regions?"

More like a smuggling ship. And prison on occasion. But I didn't want to complicate things. We'd be here all night.

“Okay, so he’s famous or something?”

Verena sighed. "Yusanis wasn't just famous. He was a great war leader. When I fought in the Mandalorian Wars, I respected his command. He was the only General I put my full trust in."

"You fought in the Mandalorian Wars?"

It seemed like everyone I ran into nowadays fought in that war.

The Echani tightened. “Yes.” She didn’t go into detail on that fact about herself however. Instead, her gaze drifted. “Yusanis was considered a war hero. He helped us to survive Dxun, Jaga's Cluster...battle after battle. But in this war he was betrayed. By Revan."

I lowered my head after hearing the name of the dead dark lord. 

"He killed him?" I asked.

"Killed him? No, Revan butchered him like an animal. I should know since I was there on Yusanis’ ship when it happened."

"And he got away with it?” I sat up. “Why didn't you stop him?"

Verena grew uncomfortable, her gaze drifting off into the rafters. "Why didn’t I stop _Revan_? Do you even know what you’re asking? No one could have stopped Revan. And, even if I had that power, I couldn’t have stopped him because Yusanis issued the challenge."

"What?" I asked. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"Well, aren't you full of asinine questions? Why does anyone do anything? For honor. The Sith Lord assassinated the Echani senator and Yusanis' challenge was supposed to be justice." Her fist clenched. "Justice that will never be."

I frowned. "What are you saying? Revan's dead."

"But I wasn't the one who killed him."

Her bright eyes were filled with fire, with a vengeance that would never come to pass. I'd never seen someone so angry over a dead man. 

I rubbed my healing nose. "And the point of that was...?"

"I only wanted to tell you about that vibroblade you _stole from me_."

Glancing down at Yusanis’ blade, I picked it up then held it out. 

"Then take it."

Verena blinked once, getting herself out of her ever present anger. "I thought you said you didn't trust me?"

I shrugged. "Still don’t,” I said. "But I doubt you'd stab anyone in the back with this."

The Echani hesitated then took the vibroblade. She stared poignantly at the hissing blade and a small smile crept up into her normally frozen face. Verena stood then hooked the vibroblade to her back. 

"You surprise me, Jedi. Perhaps you aren't a fool after all."

As she walked away towards the opposite corner, I called after her. "I would’ve been happy with a simple 'thank you.’"

* * *

Time passed. Canderous, Mission, and Verena had all fallen asleep—somehow. The heat and my nerves kept me up.

Bastila hovered in the air on the far side of the shipping container. Since everyone else had been knocked out, and there was no way I was going to get any sleep, I stood and crept towards the focused Jedi. She was so focused that I stood a mere foot away and she hadn’t opened her eyes.

I poked her nose.

Bastila jolted. 

"Force!"

She fell to the ground with a thump—sand kicked up from the vibrations of her fall

I held my hips and chuckled. "Boo?"

Bastila looked up at me with a glare. In the faint light of the storage room, her eyes were baggy and her hair still mussed from climbing around in the sandcrawler’s track. She was obviously exhausted, I didn’t need to feel it in the bond. 

I sat beside her. "What are you still doing up?" 

"I could ask you the same thing," she said.

Shrugging, I stuffed hands into pockets. "I’d say this heat but you probably sense that’s a lie. Honestly, I’m...nervous.”

“You? Nervous?”

“Is that so hard to believe? We’re being hunted by the Sith." I leaned back—for some reason, a portion of fatigue began to slow my limbs. "What about you?"

She sighed then leaned forward. Her pigtails had come loose and her hair was now brushing around her shoulders.

"I've been thinking about you, actually."

"Me?"

A wide smirk strained my face. 

As if expecting me to say something else about that, she quickly corrected, "I meant I've been watching you. Studying you closely to see what kind of progress you've made since your training under Master Zhar."

"We both know the 'real' reason why you've been watching me," I said.

My face almost broke from smiling when the bond numbed yet her eyes betrayed her flush with a glare.

"You never give up, do you? I admit, I find you intriguing. Compelling, even. But it's not what you think."

"Then tell me," I whispered, leaning forward. "What am I thinking?"

I could tell that she was uncomfortable with the breach of space when her head jerked back a centimeter in disgust. She studied me before huffing a strand of hair out of her face.

"That isn't how the bond works. I can't just read your mind whenever I want to."

"Alright then..." I trailed off, studying our sleeping teammates on the other side of the container. "So, what, you've been grading me?"

She shrank at my words as if she was about to dance with a rancor at the intergalactic prom. "You have a great gift, Wes. An awesome command of the Force...and I tremble when I think of how you might misuse it."

I stretched then placed my hands behind my head.

"I have that effect on lots of women, Bastila. You'll get used to it."

She flinched. "That's not— _anyway_ , in many ways you are dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I lowered my arms. My smile finally disappeared. "How am I _dangerous_?"

I hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, nothing that I didn't know about.

She stuttered. “I...it’s difficult to explain.”

“Go on.” I crossed my arms. “Explain.”

She faced me with a calm, tranquil look. “Today had many examples. You loathed the Echani for following us. I could feel your hatred for Calo Nord...and the Sith who harmed me. You _despised_ me for accusing you of abandoning the team. There is a pattern here. Every time you fail, or you think you fail, you anger. That is what makes you dangerous.”

Heat crawled up my chest that didn’t come from the air around us. 

“Hypocrite.” 

A quiet stirring interrupt the usual numbness in the bond. "You’re deflecting from guilt. That only makes me even more convinced that you have no idea what the dark side represents in its entirety. You're blundering with it, badly, and it shows." She sighed. "I suppose only a Master can truly explain...but I will do my best to make you understand."

"Make me understand?" I felt my neck and chest turn cold. "It's practically the only thing the Masters ever tried making me understand. Don't give into hate or anger or you'll turn into a Sith. I understood that perfectly way before it was hammered into my kriffing skull."

She shook her head as if dealing with a child. "The dark side isn't just giving into anger or temptation. These things only lead to the dark side. But the more you give into anger, hate, or passion, the closer you draw to it. And it begs you to surrender to it, Wes. So much so that you never even notice when it takes hold."

I leaned my head back on the metal of the container, finally growing tired. Mostly because of these lectures—this paranoia. What happened to the Bastila that hoped? The one that seemed to understand? Is she hiding in another cargo container or something?

She noticed my tired state and sat forward. Through our bond I could sense her frustration and for some reason I felt guilty about it. I was only ever a trouble for her, wasn't I? It always came back to being a Jedi, being emotionless, being...apart.

And despite having a bond, as Jedi we would always be apart.

The dark side—it sounded like a virus the more I listened to Bastila describe it. A disgusting, fatal virus that consumed all that it touched.

"How then?" I asked. "How could I ever hope to understand the dark side without falling myself?"

Bastila seemed almost taken aback by my question. Perhaps she was surprised that I was asking for her advice.

She cleared her throat before speaking softly, "We only need to look at the atrocities which have been committed by those under its sway to understand the corrupting power of the dark side. Millions dead and far more suffering. What sort of person would you have to become in order to perform those deeds gladly?"

I balled my hands into fists.

I thought I knew the answer—it was the answer the Jedi Masters repeated ad nauseum. The dark side controlled and manipulated the minds of those under its sway. Those who drew closer to it became puppets. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that couldn't be all there was to it. All people were marked by who they were before. No one changed from hero to villain without cause. But what cause? What?

"I don't know," I said.

She met my gaze with intensity. "And that is why the dark side is so insidious. Why so many have fallen. No one knows. And if you are not careful, you will not see the small steps taken towards it...until it is too late."

"But we know how some have fallen," I said. "Malak tortures and brainwashes Jedi to the dark side."

"Yes. The Sith have become powerful because these Jedi have been forced to succumb to the lure of the dark side and join their cause." She glanced to the floor. "What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause? To use their own knowledge against them?"

"We are weakened while they are strengthened. With little casualties as well." I sighed. "Kriff, they're like breeding gizka. Completely unstoppable."

Bastila shook her head. "Not completely. Not if we do what is required to fight against the dark side."

"Do what is required? Such as?"

"I don't know," she said.

I waved a hand. "Wonderful."

She grimaced. "It is the truth, unfortunately. I do not know what the future has in store for us...but I sense something ominous lurking in the shadows. Almost out of reach. Distant."

I laughed darkly. "Great, now I'll never sleep."

"I'm sorry if I…” She huffed. “Force, I just made things more difficult, haven't I? I really shouldn't have addressed this. I am not your Master after—"

I shoved a finger onto her lips. "Shh...quiet. You'll bite your tongue off."

She shoved me away then wiped her mouth as if I had the meridian plague on my hand.

I smiled. "You need to have more faith in yourself, Bastila. Not many people have gone through what you have in this war. Fighting Sith, the dark side, even the Dark Lord himself." I shook my head. "What I'm trying to say is...I'm...sorry for being difficult."

A moment passed before she responded. "You haven't been difficult, Wes. Not many could become a Jedi in a month without being prone to error. In fact, sometimes I wonder how things could have been different if you weren't...here."

"Rather boring I'd think. There would be so many grumpy people on the Ebon Hawk that I wouldn't be surprised if people started calling it the Ebon 'dull as Rocks.'"

Bastila playfully crossed her arms, a rare sparkle appearing in her eyes. "Oh, so it's you who makes all the difference?"

"Who else?"

She sighed. "You...do know that we are on an important mission to save the entire galaxy, right? Whether or not it’s ‘boring’ doesn’t matter."

"No, it matters. Sometimes you need to forget your troubles by smiling, Bastila, or trouble is all you'll ever have." Stretching, I laid down beside the wall. "Speaking of trouble, night, sunshine. We have a long day tomorrow."

“What happened to you being nervous?”

“I’m still nervous, but talking to you is exhausting.”

“What...how dare you—!”

However, I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Not sure if she believed the act, though.


End file.
